


Won't Back Down

by Piper1016



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), bethyl - Fandom
Genre: F/M, bethyl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 90,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6394759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piper1016/pseuds/Piper1016
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU-No zombies. Beth is very different. Fiercely independent, trying desperately to hang onto her father's property in the backwoods of Georgia. On her own, a bit lonely, she comes across a drifter that goes by the name of Daryl.</p><p>Both are trying to outrun their past. Can they still find their way to each other or will the forces that be tear them apart before they are even able to discover what they mean to each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Won't Back Down

**Hi everyone! This is a rewrite of a story I did a while ago.  It needed a major do-over! I hope you all like it, and if you've read it before, please stick around. Some things are changed up. Thanks!**

* * *

 Part 1

Won't Back Down

This was her favorite time of day. The sun just cracking the surface of the horizon, shining its orangey-yellow rays across the land, filtering through the trees. Birds and squirrels waking for the day, interrupting the silence with their chirps and chatter. Drips of the morning dew hit the leaves with a dull plopping noise. She filled her horse's' water bucket with fresh water then leaned on the fence railing reaching a hand out to her mare, an Appaloosa named Lakota, her brown coat was spotted with white on her hind quarters. Smaller in size, at only 14 hands, she was gentle in manner and was kind in disposition. Her eyes, almost human-like, seemed to have the ability to reach through to your soul and read your thoughts.

Beth adopted her from a rodeo after she had served their purpose and no longer could jump and run like she did in her younger days. She was happy to give her a home where she could spend the rest of her life in peace, not having to perform. They bonded quickly and solidly. Beth needed Lakota as much as she needed Beth.

"Whatdya' think, Lakota? Gonna' be another beautiful day?" Beth scratched her forehead, the horse closing her eyes. "That feel good, girl?"

Lakota shook her head and neighed.

Besides Lakota, she owned a handful chickens, a small herd of goats, two sheep, one milker cow, which added a surprise calf to the mix a few weeks ago, as well as various stray dogs and a numerous barn cats that came and went as they pleased. Beth was a sucker for all things needing a home. She gave Lakota one last scratch and then went on to finish the rest of her morning chores. She plugged in her ear buds of her iPhone, turned the music up to just below deafening and got to work. Some days she preferred the quietness of the natural sounds mother nature had to offer, others she craved rock. Loud and hard. Today was one of those mornings. It somewhat helped to drown out the questions and uneasiness that often swirled around in her mind.

It was well past noon when she was finally finished feeding all the animals, mucking out the stalls, laying fresh hey, gathering eggs, weeding and watering the garden. Her arms ached, her boots were dirty. Never one to shirk hard work, she loved it. This was her life.

Starving, having skipped breakfast, like she normally did, she headed back to the house for lunch. The house was beautiful, even in its varying degrees of needed repair. It was the house she grew up in and inherited when her daddy died five years ago when she was all but twenty-one years old. It was a spacious old farm house. Smaller kitchen, as was the style when it was built a hundred or so years ago. A large family room. A formal living room. Four bedrooms, two baths that were added in the mid-seventies, and absolutely no closet space. That didn't bother Beth any, she didn't have much stuff to store. The house was miles and miles from the nearest town and that suited her fine as well. The less people she had to deal with, the better. Running a farm and basic upkeep of an old house wasn't an easy way to live, but Beth, ever her father's daughter, never shyed away from a challenge.

The house breathed Beth in and exhaled her father. Her daddy was embedded everywhere she turned. He was in the hardwood floor, he was in the twenty year old sofa, he was there in every nook and cranny. At first, she wasn't sure she would be able to live here. Out in the country, all alone. When she first moved in, everywhere she turned a memory would spike in her brain, making tears come to her eyes. The pain had dulled over the last five years, but every once in awhile a memory would flash in her mind, stabbing in her chest.

When their father died, Maggie, her sister, while having a soft spot for the land, had no desire to take it on. That left the final decision up to Beth. The option of selling it brought up more turmoil than the memories did, so she decided to keep it. To make it work.

Beth sold her little apartment she had in the city, left her job as an administrative assistant, which she hated anyway, and moved back home. She also left behind Jimmy, her husband. He refused to go with her, calling her crazy and an assortment of all kinds of not so nice names. If she was being honest with herself she needed to walk away from that relationship anyway. Start fresh. Her heart no longer was with Jimmy or his with hers, or in their life she was trying so desperately to rebuild.

It wasn't easy, sometimes things just happened in life that you couldn't get over...or had no idea how to get over. Maybe being back on the farm would fix her? Packed with that hope, and her very few belongings, she moved out the farm and never looked back. She knew it wouldn't be easy, and it wasn't. The nights could be lonely and the days long. It wasn't too long before her heart began to mend a tiny bit. Of all the things wrong with this world, wrong with her life, one thing she knew for certain was this was where she belonged.

Self sufficiency was key. Living simply, not buying something new when the old could be fixed, bartering when something needed repairing beyond her know-how, trading stock or goods, selling her homemade goat milk soap, as well as other all-natural items at the local grocery store in town. Hunting, fishing, canning; that's how she got by. Just like her daddy taught her. Even though, people looked at her like she was a crazy woman when she did make it town, she wouldn't have it any other way. It wasn't an easy life, but as her father used to say nothing worth having comes easy. And this life was not easy, but she knew, was definitely worth having.

With chores done for the morning, she sat on her porch, leaning back in an Adirondack rocking chair, eating a lunch of a pickle, that she canned herself, and a piece of bread with butter, both of which she made. Her trusty wolf-dog, Echo, snoozed on the floor next to her. Like all her other animals, Echo needed a home. He was a pup of about six months, already weighing sixty pounds at the time Beth first met him. His owner couldn't deal with his rambunctious puppy behavior. He'd said the puppy was too wild to tame. Much to Beth's horror, he was going to put the dog down. Beth correctly thought that it had more to do with the human's innateness, rather than the dogs. So, she brought him home and Echo became Beth's trusty companion. All 110 pounds of him.

Taking a deep breath, looking out over her land. The large oak trees that dotted the yard, offered shade from the relentless Georgia heat, and also offered the privacy she craved.

Knowing if she sat idle for much longer she would doze off right there on the porch, as welcoming as that sounded, she went to the barn and saddled up Lakota and go for a ride.

. . .

Winding through her property there were trails beaten down enough to fit herself and Lakota weaving in and out of the trees, going back to the river bottom that was where her property line ended and her neighbors began. Having no idea of his real age, Old man Dale Horvath seemed to be 100 when Beth was two. To this day, though, he was as sharp as a tack as he rattled around his property. He kept mostly to himself, as she did, the way they both preferred it.

Slowly, Beth and Lakota, followed by Echo, meandered over to the worn wooden foot bridge rounded over the skinniest portion of the river. She often fished or just sat, listening to the water trickle over the rocks running down its path and through the land of her father's. Enjoying the solitude of her life.

Here, she dismounted Lakota and let her wander down to the water to get a nice cold drink.

Echo took off, finding some game to chase after, while Beth sat down on the bridge, her feet dangling over the edge. The sounds of the forest drifted over her much like the water did in the creek bed below. Closing her eyes, she remembered being little and doing this same exact thing. For hours she would roam these woods, anything to avoid home and her parents' tumultuous relationship. Hearing their constant bickering cut Beth deep down in her gut. To this day, the thought made her stomach turn with anxiety. When they weren't arguing there was a strain so thick in the air you could almost see it. They fought about how unhappy her mother Annette was living isolated out in the country and about how stubborn her father, Hershel, was in his unwillingness to move. They fought because her father drank too much. They fought because they were always hurting for money. Fight, fight, fight. Beth could almost hear their voices turned up in anger to this day. The strain of her mother's screeching and the quietness her father's' voice would take when he became livid and defensive. Beth and Maggie would turn to the woods to escape the unbalanced place they called home.

Her parents were always angry at one another, but some days were better than others. Some days they wouldn't speak to each other at all and on those days the silence was deafening. There was no doubt in her mind that her parents loved her and Maggie. For all their faults, they were good parents, and she would always be her daddy's girl. They were human, after all. And human's often erred in life. Beth squeezed her eyes closed in effort to shut out the bad memories. This was not how she wanted to remember her parents. Her mother always angry, he father always trying to drink his problems away. She struggled to remember her father for the man he could have been, the man he was when he wasn't drinking. The man he became later in life.

After their mother left, taking Maggie and Beth with her, Hershel got his act together so to speak. Drank less, talked more. He lived for this land and for Beth and Maggie when they came to visit. The carefree summers Beth spent there were the best memories of her life, she tried to remember those times the most.

And she wanted to remember her mother…well, she just wanted to remember her mother for the times she would let the anger go, if only for a moment, allowing the unconditional love she felt for her daughters to shine through. She knew her mother cared and loved her, more than life itself. But Annette could no longer stay on the farm. Even after she had had enough and left, moving into her own place in town, she was still angry and bitter. Annette felt her life was half wasted. She died young, yet old, just five years later.

Shaking her head, trying to rid herself of the downhearted mood that was threatening to overtake her, she stood and pulling Lakota along the trail by her reins, giving a sharp whistle for Echo, she took the long walk home slowly. Methodically, noticing the slight change of the trees took in mid-August. She became aware of the number of acorns that were already beginning to fall for the squirrels and other forest creatures to collect for the coming winter. Soon Lakota and other animals would begin to grow their winter coats as well. Life went on, time passed.

Her thoughts wandered back to Maggie and she couldn't remember the last time they spoke, so she decided to call her when she got home. She missed her sister. She never saw her enough with Beth being out on the farm, rarely coming to town and Maggie being busy with her own life and work, she was unable to come out to the farm very often. She relished their phone conversations. Speaking of nothing important, just of the happenings of their lives, mostly Maggie's, as it was more interesting than her own. She doubted Maggie wanted to hear about the new calf that was born late in the spring. Or about the dewormer she had to administer the goats. The thought of talking with Maggie made her mood brighten. Maybe it was time for a trip to town to visit her sister after all.

Rounding the house, after removing Lakota's saddle and brushing her down, giving her some fresh water and a snack, Echo became stiff, his hair standing on end in a mohawk down his spine. A growl vibrated low in his chest.

There in the driveway, parked awkwardly a few feet back from the house like it was scared it might catch dirt, sat a brand new Cadillac Escalade, making her beat up old Scout International look sorrier than it already did. Beth was almost sure the Escalades owner bought it just to trudge out to the farm on his bi-monthly visits to harass her.

"Easy, boy." Beth whispered to Echo. He relaxed only marginally, walking along his mistress's side.

And there was her visitor, sitting on the edge of the adirondack chair, _her_ adirondack chair, trying his best not to wrinkle his black pinstripe suit. His dark hair, with a perfect speckling of silver at his temples, was slicked back with so much product it looked almost crunchy. Beth had the overwhelming urge to mess it up with her fingers.

He stood when she came into his line of vision. "Ms. Greene." The way he spoke her name, pronouncing Ms. like Mzzz irritated her like nails on a chalkboard.

Placing her hand on Echo's head, she nodded, walking past him, "Phil."

He eyed Echo uneasily. "That dog gets bigger every time I come out here."

Philip Blake, who hated to be called Phil, was slowly buying up the land surrounding hers. He was dying to get his hands on the farm and she would never, as long as she lived, let that happen. Beth was unsure why he wanted her property and really didn't care. She guessed he wanted to build some fancy country club or something equally obnoxious. Bottom line, it was a scheme to make him richer than he already was, no doubt, and Beth had no desire to help him in that conquest. He was also, apparently, scared of dogs.

Still, he insisted on coming out, twice a month, each time upping the ante and the price he was willing to pay. With each visit his frustration grew. Today, though, instead of just Philip, he had another man with him. Standing a few feet behind and to the left of him, legs spread, hands crossed behind his back in an at ease position. His red hair cut close to his head, his mustache handlebaring around his mouth to his chin. He wore black slacks and a black t-shirt, the material stretched precariously over his biceps and abs.

"Is he your heavy?" She asked, inclining her head to his bodyguard. Walking past the two men, she instructed Echo to stay on the porch. And he did. Four legs locked and ready to pounce at any sign of distress from Beth. Keeping an eye on the man in black, as well as an ear out for Beth, as she walked through the porch door and into the kitchen.

Carrying a small briefcase, Philip ignored her comment insinuating he needed protection from her and giving the dog plenty of room, he followed her into the house, the man staying near the door on the porch.

Without preamble he began his speech. "Now, what we are willing to do for you..."

Beth snorted, taking a glass from the cupboard, filling it with water from the tap. "Do for me? The way I see it, I'd be doin' this for you."

"True, but I think you would be more than pleased at the price point we have set for you…"

Beth held up her hand as she took another drink. "Save your breath. My mind ain't changed since your last visit."

"If you would only look at the figures…I can tell you we are offering you way more than this property, this old house," he spoke with disdain and gestured to the room in general, "is worth."

Beth could guess what he was offering and she knew it was a considerable amount less than what the land was worth. The house itself wasn't worth much, but it held more sentimental value than any dollar amount could match.

"How much longer can you keep your head above water, Ms. Greene? I've been doing some checking into your finances. Not to mention, the roof needs replacing, the barn needs repairing. Every time I come here there are more animals…"

Beth interrupted his speech that he pretty much repeated verdarium with each visit. "Are you that dense or just really stupid? I'm. Not. Selling. My. Land." She spoke slowly, enunciating each word.

She could see his frustration growing. "If you don't see what I am offering you here...if you won't listen to reason." His voice trailed off as he moseyed over to where she stood at the sink. "It must be lonely, living out here all by yourself. Your nearest neighbor is, what? Ten miles away?"

"Fifteen, actually," she corrected him, unpulsed.

"It'd be a shame if something happened to you out here. No one to help. No one to hear." He moved closer, too close for Beth's comfort, his cologne burning her nostrils. His eyes moving from her face to the man that stood on the other side of her screen door.

Beth didn't like feeling trapped, but she casually leaned on the counter, legs kicked out, arms crossed with the glass in her right hand. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her jeans were worn and dusty, as were her ancient work boots. Her t-shirt, older than she cared to admit, hugged her body. She paid little attention to how tightly it did fit until this moment, when Philip took a step even closer.

"Is that a threat?" She asked, not easily intimidated. She, however, didn't care for where this conversation was heading.

"No. Just educating you a bit. My patience with you, little girl, is wearing thin." He raised his hand then dragged his perfectly manicured fingernail lightly down her cheek. "It's just not safe for a woman to be out here, miles from town. All by herself. What if something happened to you? An accident of some sort."

She stood to her full height, hating that it was still a foot below his, facing him head on. "In case you haven't noticed I don't frighten easily. And, I don't back down on what's rightfully mine."

"And I always", he repeated for emphasis, "Always. Get what I want. All women can usually be persuaded to do what they should." He looked at her from head to toe, making Beth's stomach quiver with nausea. She felt physically ill at the thought of his hands touching her.

Setting her glass aside on the counter, she spoke calmly, with sure-minded authority, "I'm going to say this real slowly, 'cause you seem a little thick in the skull: I ain't selling. So you and your hired heavy over there," she pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the man in black, "can head back to town in that eighty thousand dollar car of yours and fuck off."

Beth saw him flinch, just ever so slightly, at her words. She slid out from him and counter, turned on her heal, yanked the screen door open and exited, effectively dismissing him and his man.

Moments later, from where she and Echo stood at the cow pen, Beth saw the Escalade slowly drive back down the driveway. Philip sat in the passenger seat and blew her a kiss, to which she smiled and showed him her middle finger.

. . .

"Thatta' girl." The man whispered under his breath when the blonde woman flipped the bird to the guy in the fancy car. He was shadowed by the overgrown brush behind the cow pasture. And he watched. He had seen when the Escalade pulled down the long dirt drive. Watched as the woman walked that mare and the dog, that was the size of a small horse, into the barn. Watched as she came back, only hesitating a moment when she saw the Escalade parked next to her vehicle. Moving along the brush, staying undetected, he watched as they went inside the house, leaving the ex-military - yes, it was that obvious to him, on the deck. A few moments later the woman came back out, ignoring the man in black, whistled to the dog, she marched back to the barn. Then, the man came out, and he and the second man went back to the car.

. . .

Angry at the situation, but more angry at how unnerved Phillip's little visit left her, she stomped back to the house and went directly to her bedroom. Reaching under the old mattress, she blindly felt around until her fingers came into contact with the cold steel of her Glock 20 10mm.

In the back of the underwear drawer of her dresser she found the fifteen round clip. Locking the clip into place, she set the safety on. In her closet, she retrieved her dad's leather belt and gun holster. It was engraved with swirls surrounding the letter G. The smell of leather made her heart ache for her father. For his sound advice and for the reassurance he always personified, even when he was drunk.

Years ago she added extra holes to the belt to fit her small waist. She fit the leather strap through the belt loops of her jeans, ran the holster through the belt and then ran the belt through the remaining two belt loops so that the holster sat at her right hip. She clasped the silver belt buckle, and lastly put the gun in the holster.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror above the dresser. The backing was beginning to separate from the mirror, turning it black and grey in the corners. In contrast her skin was pale, her eyes large. Determined. She reminded herself that she was in charge of her future, and no one else. Definitely not Philip Blake.


	2. Stranger on the Mountain

Days went by and they were quiet and uneventful, just the way Beth liked it. Just her and Echo and the animals and the sound of the breeze through the trees. After she calmed a bit from Philip's visit, as originally planned she called Maggie. She sounded well and happy. Leaving out Philip, Beth listened as Maggie spoke of a man she had met recently at a restaurant. His name was Glenn. Beth was happy for Maggie. She deserved someone good. And this Glenn guy didn't sound half bad. They tentatively set a date she might be able to meet Glenn and their conversation drifted in and out about nothing in particular, with Maggie always coming back to Glenn. Beth had never heard her sister gush about a guy so much before. By the end of the phone conversation, she could tell her sister had already fallen for Glenn just by the way her voice became wistful when she spoke of him.

Beth found herself at the bridge at the back of the property most afternoons. Enjoying the weather before it turned cooler and the ground got mushier, becoming too unstable to take Lakota on the trails. This afternoon was no different, her legs dangling off the bridge as Lakota munched on a nearby patch of grass. Instead of joining them, Echo chose to stay at the house, dozing on the porch.

She reached up and pulled the ponytail holder from her hair, running her hands through the tangled mess, wondering when was the last time she actually brushed it. Shrugging, she leaned back on her hands, the sun shining through the parted branches of a tree, beaming down directly on her. Closing her eyes, she soaked up the sun beams, turning her face up to the cloudless sky. Her troubled mind momentarily put at ease.

The warmth seeping into her cold bones was the cure she needed. Jimmy had called her cold on many an occasion. Sadly, she couldn't dispute his claim. She had turned cold to him. To life in general. She had already lost her father, she couldn't lose his farm as well. He didn't understand that. It was the straw that broke the dysfunctional camel's back. Too much, too soon, too young. Their life together was doomed from the start. He was a distraction from the turmoil of her parents divorce, she was a pretty face with a nice ass. All being told, simply put, Jimmy was a jackass. Part of her still cared for him, though she could not fathom why.

Coming back to her senses as a shadow stretched across her face, darkening the backs of her eyelids. Beth opened her eyes. A man stood in silhouette over her, his body backlit against the bright sky. Bringing her hand up, she shaded her eyes to get a better view. The man had dark shaggy hair, a stubbled, chiseled face and crystal clear blue eyes squinting down at her. It wasn't too often you happened to stumble across another person this far from town. Occasionally you would get a trespasser during hunting season, but it was not hunting season and he didn't seemed concerned that he was, in fact, trespassing.

Wondering where he came from, Beth didn't hear him walk up, didn't sense his presence. Had she fallen asleep? Was he a figment of her lonely imagination?

Finally her wits caught up with her dreamlike mind and she startled, stumbling to her feet putting space between herself and the stranger. Here, Beth could get a better view of him. He carried a crossbow over one shoulder, maybe he was a hunter. If that were the case, he was one that didn't pay mind to hunting laws; bow season didn't start for another few weeks. A duffel bag was slung over the other shoulder. He looked like he'd been out there a while. His clothes dusty and ruggedly worn, sleeves ripped off at the seams of the button up flannel shirt. He was in need of a shower.

At an impasse, they stared one another down, waiting for the other to speak first. He kept his stare locked with hers. Drawn to him, Beth felt she couldn't look away even if she wanted to. His piercing blue eyes burrowed into her. The sensation made her feel so uncomfortable that she did end up looking away, clicking her tongue at Lakota who munched on a patch of clover oblivious to their visitor. As she lumbered over, she took her by the rains. Of all the days Echo chose to stay at home...

As though he was afraid she might saddle the horse and ride away, finally he spoke, "You Beth?"

She guessed it was a question, though it sounded more like a statement. She nodded in the affirmative.

"How do you know my name?" True enough everyone knew everyone else here, but he was a stranger to her.

"Hovert told me," he said motioning in the general direction of Dale's place.

"Is that so? And why would he do that?"

"Said you might have work. That you have a farm." His voice was gravely, harsh. And for some unfathomable reason, it gave her goosebumps.

Still suspicious she asked, "How'd you know where to find me?"

"Hovert," he said again by way of explanation.

"Sorry mister, I'm gonna' need more of explanation than that." Releasing Lakota's rein's, Beth crossed her arms over her chest.

"He gave me directions to your place, I came across you first."

Made sense Beth supposed. "How'd you know I was Beth," she asked.

"I didn't, that's why I asked," he said, stating the obvious, a small smirk on his lips.

Relaxing marginally, under all the dirt he had a nice face. Her daddy taught her better; never leave someone you can help. So she asked, "Alright then, what kinda work you lookin' for?"

"Just 'bout anything. I work well with my hands." Her gaze traveled down to where his hands rested, one on his bow strap, the other on his hip. They were large and calloused, dirt under his nails. He'd seen cleaner days, for sure. But still, for some inexplicable reason, she had a sudden desire to experience what those hands felt like on her skin.

Where had that thought come from? She shook it from her mind. Focusing.

"I don't have much cash to pay you." Or any for that matter. The farm always had odd jobs that needed tending. Her roof was one of them…though that was more than an odd job. That was a big job that needed to be taken care of soon, before winter.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Right now, I'd just take a place to stay in return for my labor."

Beth thought of the small office in the barn that held a cot and mini-fridge. There was even an old black and white TV if you were lucky enough to get reception.

Needlessly wiping the dust off her hands on her jeans, she asked, "Got a name?"

"Daryl."

Taking a step toward him, she put out her hand, "Well Daryl, nice to meet ya'. I'm, as you already know, Beth."

He took her small hand in his, shaking it. Her daddy always said you could tell a lot by a man's handshake. His was strong and firm. She ignored the slight wave of electricity that shot up her arm and into her heart, chalking it up to the fact that she had had very little contact with anyone in the past few months. Other than Philip, and his presence repulsed her.

Just like that, Beth decided to give him a chance. "Come on," she motioned for him to follow her. She had a feeling, under the film of dirt and toughness, he had a kind soul.

She walked Lakota back with Daryl on the other side of the horse. He didn't talk much, only speaking when spoken to, or out of necessity. This was fine with Beth. In her opinion people spoke far too much and said far too little.

When they finally reached the barn it was dusk, the sun setting in another spectacular show of Georgia beauty. Surprising Beth, Daryl took Lakota's reins from her and led her into the barn, taking off her saddle, finding the brush where it hung on the wall, and began brushing her down. Lakota was usually skittish around men, but she seemed to be lavishing in Daryl's attention. She stood still, allowing him to run the brush over her glossy coat, eyes closed, tail swishing back and forth. Beth had an annoying and silly prick of jealousy for the mare, as she watched his hands running over her, murmuring quietly. Mesmerized by his movements, Beth forced herself to tear her eyes away from him and walked to the back of the barn where the office was.

The room wasn't large at all, no bigger than the average new houses bathroom probably. In one corner was the mini fridge and the old television sat on top of the fridge. A desk was pushed along one wall. Beth ran her hand over it, feeling the smooth worn wood. This is where her father would hide away from her mother, a bottle of Jack always in the bottom drawer. Beth wondered…as she bent, her hand resting on the bottom drawer pull. Pulling it back quickly, the drawer shuffled open. It was empty. She smiled quietly to herself. She spent a lot of time with her father in this office while he worked over schemes to make them more money in an effort to provide for his family and make Annette happy. She would sit on his knee, or on a spare chair, just sharing space with him.

Sighing, she stood, and picked up the cot from where it was folded, leaning against the wall. Unfolding it, she set it up along the opposite wall. By then Daryl was through with Lakota, having put her in her stall with fresh water.

When she turned from locking the cot's legs in place, Daryl stood at the door, leaning against the frame. She had this unsettling feeling he was enjoying the view of her backside.

"Sorry but this is all I got to offer you. There should be bottled water in the fridge. Half bath's down the hall."

"'S fine."

"Well, I'll leave you to it. Tomorrow we can talk about what I need doin' 'round here, you can decide if you want to stay on and work."

"I'm sure I will," he said confidently.

Angling her body to the side, she slid past him. Careful not allowing her body to touch his as she exited the small room.

"Sleep well."

. . .

Daryl said nothing in return, only watched her walk away back down the barn hallway. She was thin, but not without the soft curves of a woman. He concluded she was about as edgy around people as a cat was around water. He always kept to himself, never prying into anyone's business, but he couldn't deny his curiosity. So quick she was to give him, a drifter, which barely said two words to her, a place to stay. So quick to offer him work. Yes, she put him in the barn while she was safe in the house, it was still more than the average person would do. She intrigued him, he admitted. He wondered what her story was and why she felt the need to pack that Glock on her hip.

Looking around, Daryl took in the small space. In all honesty it was the most comfortable surroundings he'd had a long while. He flung his duffel bag onto the cot and dug around for a clean shirt, removing his own. Clean t-shirt in hand, he turned when he heard Beth enter the office again, pushing open the door that was only halfway closed.

. . .

Beth held two lightweight blankets she had fetched from the house and brought back out to Daryl. The temperature was supposed to drop during the night in the week to come. She wanted to make sure he was comfortable in the unheated barn. Dumbfounded and distracted, she found him without a shirt, broad shoulders sloping down to muscular biceps. His forearms…had she ever noticed anyone's forearms before? Were thick and powerfully built. Daryl stood, looking expectantly over his shoulder at her and she could only stare.

 _Say something Beth_! She scolded herself. Anything!

Words refused to come from her mouth as she continued her inspection of him. On his back there were two demon tattoos, faded to grey. Long scars ran up and across his skin. Anger surged deep in her gut. She supposed they could of happened by an accident of some sort. She highly doubted it, though. Someone had purposely put those scars on him. Her fingers tingled, wanting to trace the deep etchings they made. Pulling her eyes from the scares, she noted his sides were sunken showing the shadow of his ribs. He needed a few good meals she assimilated.

Beth continued to stand at the door staring at Daryl, eyes wide. He looked back at her over his shoulder. After a second turned into a half a minute, and that turned into a full minute, he cleared his throat, throwing his t-shirt on over his head. He turned to face her and by then she had appeared to recover her momentary pause.

"I...thought you could use these. Suppose to get cold."

He closed the space between them with two steps, taking the wool blankets from her outstretched arms.

"Thanks. Ain't had such luxury in a long time."

"They're just blankets." She shrugged. Nodding, she left the room, closing the door all the way this time.

. . .

Back inside the house, from her own bedroom window that looked out over the acres of land, she had a direct view into the offices uncurtained window. Beth watched as he spread one of the blankets over the cot, then reaching for the light switch he turned it out, the room and reflection through the window went dark.

For Beth, having someone on her land for the first time in her recent memory had the opposite effect one would think it would. Having Daryl so close, felt overwhelmingly lonely. A feeling she was normally able to keep at bay with hard work that brought on bone numbing exhaustion. She would fall into bed at night and sleep straight through. Tonight, though, loneliness hung over her like a black cloud.

Growing weary Beth lay down on her bed, not bothering to change out of her dusty clothes, she kicked off her boots and closed her eyes, praying sleep would come swiftly.

. . .

Daryl sat against the wood planked wall in the pitch of black watching the small blonde figure in the top story window of the house. Unknowingly watching her watching him gave him a feeling he couldn't grasp. What was that feeling? Yearning? That was stupid. He'd never yearned for any woman in his life, let alone one he'd just met. Sure, he'd wanted one woman or another throughout the years. To take her to bed and shamelessly not much else.

He'd wanted for plenty in his life. He longed for the fall when the incessant heat would finally let up and hunting season would begin. He had a hankering for a good meal, since he couldn't remember his last. But longing? For a woman?

No the fuck way.

 _Don't get soft now, Dixon_ , he lectured himself. He slunk down onto the cot, covered himself with the itchy wool blanket. Closing his eyes, sleep came surprisingly easy that night.

. . . 

The next morning, groggy and tired from a sleepless night, Beth shuffled into the barn a little later than normal, surprised to find the majority of the chores already finished. She stood in the middle of the barn, looking around. The horses had water and grain. The stalls had been mucked out and fresh hay added and the floor. The breezeway had even been swept.

Outside, she found Daryl in the cow pasture repairing a post on the fence that was loose. Hammer in his hand, two nails sticking out from his mouth.

"Well ain't he a go getter," Beth said to herself, as she made her way over to him. Stopping briefly to talk to the mama cow, eyeing the bull in his separate pen. She knew she needed send him off to be processed soon, but it was hard for her. All the animals, every single one of them, were her babies. They all served a purpose, of course, and the bull would fill her freezer, as well as whoever else buys the other half of beef. That didn't make it any easier.

Daryl watched Beth out of the corner of his vision. Under a flannel jacket to ward off the early morning chill, she wore the same clothes as yesterday. The coat was way too big, making her look small and childlike. He noted she still wore the Glock on her hip.

Her hair was pulled up into one of those messy ponytails women sometimes wore, his hand itched to take her hair down and run his fingers through it. This attraction was unprecedented in his life to date. It made him extremely uncomfortable and inexplicably angry.

What did he care about her?

He didn't, but…

He found himself interested in more than just her looks. He wanted to know more about her as a person. Why would a woman choose to live out here by herself? What woman would just take on a stranger with hardly any questions asked? Why was she packing the gun? He had a sneaking suspicion it was more than general self protection. No. There was a story behind it.

Beth stopped to talk to the cow and the calf jumped happily around her. One of the biggest dogs he'd seen walked alongside her. Black with long shaggy hair, grey penetrating eyes.

 _Friggin Dr. Dolittle_ , he mumbled.

"You're an early riser." she stated when she finally made it over to him.

"Uh huh."

And not very talkative. "Thanks for doin' the chores. I woke up a little late."

He nodded.

"Well." She supposed she would get right to it. "The barn needs some work." She gestured to the fence he was hammering nails into. "Inside, the 3rd stall door keeps sticking, and I would like a temporary stall built for the calf, and a few other little odds and ends you've probably noticed."

"Uh huh," he said again.

"But the biggest job, and most important, is my roof. It's in major need of repair."

He glanced over to it. "You know how to do somethin' like that?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

Well, okay then. "The jobs yours. Like I said I don't got no money, but you can have free room and board, meals included. If you're up for it, that is."

He looked to the house. Then back to her, thankful she couldn't see the butterflies that danced in his belly at the prospect of staying here. With her. "Well, it depends." He paused his hammering, took a freshly rolled smoke out of his shirt pocket. Lighting it, he leaned on the fence post.

Wow, she was impressed. He spoke three whole words. "Depends on what?" She asked.

"How good a cook ya' are."

A full sentence and a joke! "You're in luck then. I happen to be a spectacular cook."

His face cracked the slightest of a smile. "We'll see about that."

. . .

They worked companionably and quietly the rest of the morning and finished chores in half the time. He was always careful to keep a good few feet in between them, as though he was afraid he'd catch cooties from her.

Finally Beth could no longer take his one worded answers to her questions. She enjoyed her solitude, but this was getting ridiculous. Since it was decided he was staying a while, she felt she had a right to ask him a few questions.

"So." She began as she hung the rake in it's place in the barn breezeway, "Where ya' from?"

"Georgia."

Beth rolled her eyes at him, "Duh."

"Northern Georgia."

Okay, Beth always did enjoy a challenge. "Why were you wandering around the woods?"

He shrugged, began stacking the few bales of hay she kept on hand on the ground floor of the barn. "No reason."

Not perturbed, she asked, "Just felt like goin' for a walk?"

"Something like that." When he finally ran out of little jobs, he leaned against the door frame, looking down at his feet.

"Ever been married

"Nope. You proposing?" He looked at her out if the tops of his eyes, head still downcast, a grin parted his lips.

Beth snorted. "Maybe." Then switching gears, she asked, "Ya' hungry?"

Daryl's stomach growled at the prospect of real food. He'd picked up a bag of chips and a soda at a gas station a while ago, but that doesn't stick with you very long. His mouth began to water. He smiled bashfully at Beth's wide grin.

"I guess that's a yes?" She was right, he was hungry. Maybe he'd be more talkative once his belly was full.

. . .

Inside Beth lit the burner on her gas stove, setting her Mamas old cast iron skillet on the open flame. Daryl stood awkwardly by the door. What he had seen of the house, which was so far only the kitchen, was clean and tidy.

"Hope you like eggs." She gestured to the window and her flock of chickens. "I'm never outta eggs."

"Eggs are fine."

"Sit," she told him motioning to the kitchen table. He did, taking the seat across the table farthest from where she stood at the stove.

This amused her. Shouldn't she be the one leery of him? Not the other way around. She turned to him, spatula in hand, and said, "You know Daryl, I don't bite."

That got his attention. He looked at her, puzzled. At least he finally looked her in the eye.

"'Scuse me?"

"I know you don't know me from Eve, but I'm not gonna' hurt you." She was only half teasing. "You've obviously seen better days. If you're gonna be living here, we are bound to run into each other. There's no reason for you to be so…" She searched her mind for the right word, "spooked by me. Truth is I'm no more used to having people 'round me than you probably are. I'm not lookin' to cause trouble, I don't think you are either. Get me?"

Apparently the mysterious shy type won't work with her, Daryl deduced, but he appreciated her honesty. "I got you…and thanks."

She nodded turning back to the eggs.

Together they ate the breakfast she cooked for them consisting of scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes. After two helpings he pushed his plate away, "That was one of the best breakfasts I think I've ever had."

She grinned, her smile likened to a sunbeam, "You really haven't eaten in a while then. I may have been fibbin' a bit when I said I was a good cook." She cooked well enough to get by. It was nothing compared to her mother's cooking, though.

"Tasted mighty fine to me. Where'd you get the bacon?" He could tell it wasn't store bought.

"A pig I shot last fall."

Well, I'll be. "You hunt?" He was impressed.

"Yep, my daddy taught me when I was young. I picked it up again when I moved back here."

"When was that?"

"Oh, about five years ago." Five years, seven months and four days. But, who's counting.

"Must not a been too bad of a dad, teachin' his girl how to hunt."

"Na', he was great." Focus on the positive, she reminded herself. "Taught both my sister and me how to hunt, fish, trap. 'Course we had to livin' out here. Not like there is a grocery store close by."

"So you grew up here?"

Beth's notion was apparently correct, once he got his belly full he'd be more talkative. She'd rather be talking about him though.

"Yes. I loved it. We lived here till I was a softmore in high school, then…." She trailed off, realizing she was beginning to rambling. "What about you?"

He shrugged, "What about me?"

"You grow up around here? You said northern Georgia…"

He nodded, "Yep. Then what?" Keep her talking about herself, then she won't ask you questions, Daryl told himself. Strangely, he wanted to know more about Beth. He loved to hear her just talk. The ebb and flow of her melodic voice.

"Then what, what?" She asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"You said you lived here till you was a sophomore, then what?"

"Then we moved."

"Your dad moved?" Daryl would be surprised by this. He knew the type that lived here. If they were born here, usually they died here.

"No." She said simply. Standing she stacked his plate on top of hers, took them to the sink.

He leaned back in his chair; _Hit a nerve, did I_? "Sorry, didn't mean to pry." That was honestly the last thing he wanted to do.

"It's fine. My parents divorced and I moved to the city with my mom and sister. I moved back when I was twenty-one, after daddy died." She rolled her shoulders like it was nothing. He knew it was something.

"I never really belonged in the city though. This," she gestured with her hand out the window above where she stood at the sink, "This is where I belong."

Nodding his head, he got it, he really did.

"So," she said suddenly changing the subject. "How about pork chops for dinner?"

He had a hard time keeping tabs on her line of thinking, she went from one subject to the next. "Huh?"

"Pork chops. For dinner tonight."

"You don't have to go to no trouble for me."

"It's not any trouble at all. I need to make room in my freezer for Clem so you'd be doin' me a favor by eating some of the meat."

"Clem?" he questioned.

"My bull."


	3. Be Good

**Sidenote:**   **while writing this I had envisioned Jimmy as Charlie Hunnam from Sons of Anarchy. If you don't know who that is, look him up right now. You won't regret it. You're welcome. ;)**

* * *

 

 

Daryl and Beth fell into a routine easy enough. Almost too easily. They woke, dividing and conquering the morning chores, each going their own way, or sometimes working together. Daryl would tackle her to-do list as well. When lunch came around, sometimes they would eat together, sometimes not. After lunch, if Daryl wasn't still working on a specific job, he was pretty scarce, going in his own direction, most likely into the woods. Then late in the afternoon they would find themselves back in the barn finishing up evening chores. Sometimes they would eat dinner together, sometimes not. Secretly Beth loved having the company for dinner. The other meals didn't bother he so much, but dinner alone seemed extra pathetic.

It hadn't rained in weeks and every surface had a coating of dust over it. You couldn't take a step without creating a cloud everywhere you went. By the end of the most days, Beth and Daryl were covered with dirt.

"If you wanna use my shower you can," Beth finally offered Daryl one night after a long day of work. Both were covered in dust, dirt and grime. Beth figured he must have been washing up down at the river, or using the sink in the half bath in the barn, because he seemed a bit cleaner in the mornings than the evenings. A good scrubbing would probably feel good.

A teasing smirk came over his face when he asked, "Sayin' I stink?" He was going to decline her offer, showering in her shower was probably a bit too personal. Reasonably though, he was starting to stink. There was only so much a bar of soap and cold river water could do.

Beth laughed outright. Daryl was so quiet, she could almost forget he was there. Almost. She was always aware of him on some level. Every once in awhile, though, he would make her laugh like no one ever had before with just a few words. "Yeah, I am."

He grumbled a laugh, "Okay. Thanks."

"Go on help yourself, first door on the left at the top of the stairs. Towels are in the cupboard."

He went to his sleeping quarters, grabbing a clean shirt and jeans. Thankfully, Beth had a washer and dryer on the back porch he'd made good use of earlier in the week, washing what little clothes he had.

Feeling a bit strange, he had not been further than the kitchen of the house, always using the backdoor that entered directly into the kitchen. This time, he went through the front door. It opened to a large foyer with its hardwood floors and a large mat with a flower on it. Along the wall was a buffet table about as old as the house, with a basket and a vase of fake flowers. Not at all Beth's style, Daryl surmised it must of been leftover decor from her mother. He'd imagined her daddy putting the mail or his keys in the basket after a long day. He wondered, fleetingly, what it would be like, coming home to dinner with a wife and children waiting. Such domestic tranquility was something Daryl had only witnessed on television, never in his own life.

Straight ahead was a formal family room, complete with uncomfortable looking furniture and bookshelves filled to the brim with stuffy books that were, most likely, beyond his reading comprehension. A large, upright piano made from some sort of shiny wood stood at the far the left were the wide stairs leading to the upper story of the house. It wound around and up, into a long hallway.

Just as Beth said, the bathroom was the first door on the left. Quickly he stripped of his dirty, smelly clothes. In the clawfoot tub, he turned the faucet to hot. The water came out fast and hot. He never minded being dirty before, it was a side effect of the kind of life he lived, but he hadn't had a shower in a long while.

Showers and regular meals? He could get used this place. A beautiful girl. He shook that thought out of his head as quickly as it came to him. 

After standing under the spray of water for a few minutes, just letting the water hit his sore shoulders and wash away the first layer of dirt down the drain, he picked up Beth's shampoo bottle and flipped the top, pouring it onto his hand. The scent of Beth encircled him, weighing heavily in his chest. The tightness there was unexpected.

They'd been sharing a good portion of their days together, as well as, one or two meals for over a week now. It was becoming harder and harder to keep his distance. He accidentally brushed up against her a few times, or she would offhandedly touch his arm while she spoke to him. The contact was an instant buzz to his system.

As he lathered the soap into his hair, he rid himself of the dirt and grime, replacing it with Beth's lemony fresh scent. He wondered, not for the first time, why he was so drawn to her. It was more than just a physical thing. She was beautiful, for sure. She was also so much more.

She was caring. Took in all those animals because they needed a home. Independent. Always doing for herself what needed to be done instead of waiting for him to take the lead. She knew her stuff. Hunted and fished. That alone took self-reliance. She had a pretty face, but she was tough too. A person had to be to live on your own like she did. She was the perfect combination of strength and beauty.

Feeling human again, he came out of the bathroom steam following him into the hallway, fresh t-shirt in hand. He trailed down the hallway opposite the stairs, wanting to get a glimpse from the second story landing window. Betting he could see for miles from that perch. Two doors to his right were closed, the last one on the left, however, was halfway open. He could almost hear his Mama yelling at him from the grave to not go into a woman's bedroom without invitation. Curiosity got the best of him though, and he pushed the door open the rest of the way.

The bedroom clearly belonged to Beth. He could feel her there. The room wasn't pin-neat, and for some reason, that made Daryl relax. A queen sized bed lined one wall, the oak headboard was old and scratched. An acoustic guitar leaned on the headboard next to her pillow. A heavy flannel bedspread was pushed to the foot of the bed and the sheets were rumbled. Both different shades of grey. Daryl could almost feel the coolness of the sheets on his fingertips.

The room was very Beth, no fuss. A braided rug, the color of the summer sky centered the floor. A few items of clothing were scattered on top the rug. A shirt, a lone sock. A pair of jeans. A black bra. A large dresser sat on the opposite wall of the bed, centered in between two floor length windows.

Unknowingly, he had entered the room at some point of his voyeurism, walking to the dresser. Scattered on top were her cell phone, a pile of clean folded t-shirts that had yet to be put away, a few bracelets he'd never seen her wear. In the center, leaned against the wall, was a large mirror that looked to be antique. The peeling white painted iron frame was intricately woven and rusted through in places. Beth's love for anything old was prevalent here.

In front of the mirror was a jewelry box. A cheap pink one, probably every young girl had as a child. He reached out and opened it. A small, pink ballerina popped up and spun around in a musicless dance. Picking the box up in his hands, he looked at the bottom, trying to figure out why it wasn't playing the music that normally accompanies these types of jewelry boxes.

Footsteps sounding on the hardwood floors downstairs brought him back to reality, signaling him Beth was back inside the house. Daryl quickly, yet quietly, shut the lid of the box and sat it back down. Following his footsteps in, he left the door half open like he had found it, and retreated back down the hall to the stairs.

Daryl found Beth at the piano he had spotted earlier in the formal living area. She played slowly, as though she were working out the music to the lyrics that sounded softly from her mouth.

And we'll pine for summer.  
And we'll buy beer to shotgun.  
We'll lay in the lawn.  
And we'll be good.

Her words, the melody she played on the piano, the tightness in his chest he had felt in the shower, were nothing compared to the vice like clench that now gripped his entire body. He had already been in her shower, snooped around her bedroom and now he was eavesdropping. Feeling ever like the imposer he was, he cleared his throat to make his presence known.

Beth startled, turned towards him on the piano bench. He stood at the large room opening. No shirt, hair still wet from the shower. Momentarily, she lost her wording and could only stare. Her face flushed, not because he caught her singing, but because of her body's reaction to his.

Finally, finding her voice, she explained, a little to loudly, "Oh! I thought you were done with your shower, 'n back outside."

"Oh, umm…" He followed her eyes as they traveled down his bare chest. "Damn, forgot my shirt."

In Beth's bedroom. _Shit!_

He made no move to go and retrieve it where he'd left it on her dresser when he picked up the music box. The seconds ticked by, literally, on the grandfather clock that stood imposingly tall in the corner. Its round face judging him.

 _Say anything_. Anything to break this ungodly silence.

"So, are you comfortable in the office? I know that cot can't be comfortable."

He gestured with his hand, "It's the comfiest bed I've had in a year.

Beth giggled softly, "Really?"

"I ain't kiddin'."

Beth smiled smally, leaning forward, her hands on the edge of the bench.

"Why dontcha' go ahead, play some more. Keep singin'."

"What?" She asked, clearly confused.

"Well, there ain't no jukebox, so…" he gestured to the room.

This was...unexpected. Beth turned back to the piano, placing her hands back to the keys and she continued with her song.

And we'll buy beer to shotgun  
And lay in the lawn  
And we'll be good  
Now I'm laughing at my boredom  
And my string of failed attempts  
'Cause you think that it's important

Daryl watched from his post by the entryway, thinking it was a good thing no one could see what her singing was doing to his mind and body, turning his hardened soul into mush. Although, maybe if someone did see, then they could explain it to him, because he couldn't even begin to know how to express it himself.

Lifting her head, the music fading from the room, she turned to face him and their eyes met and not only did his soul turn to mush, his mind did too.

"That was…"

He heard it a microsecond before she did, the crunching of wheels on the gravel. Before either could say anything more, Beth was up and out the kitchen door.

Shaking off the moment, shaking off whatever that look was between he and Beth was, he took this chance to retrieve his shirt and no one would hopefully be the wiser, but Beth's raised voice stopped him before his foot could touch the first step of the stairs.

"What are you doin' here?"

Daryl followed the path through the living room to the kitchen. Beth was on the back porch with her back to him, standing in the center of the porch in front of the stairs. Speaking to a man in a suit, about as out of place in the yard as the president would be. Daryl couldn't see her face, but it didn't take a expert in body language to figure out she was clearly unhappy. Her back so straight it was almost rigid. Her head cocked slightly to the side.

Her strained voice carried through the screen, "I told you to quit coming here."

The man's voice was impatient, sharp. Condescending. A man that wasn't accustomed to not getting his way. "Not until you listen to reason."

"I told you no. Plain and simple. Now get off my land. I won't ask you again." Daryl saw Beth unfold her arms and rest her palm on the handgrip of the ever-present Glock. This man, Daryl realized, was her reason for carrying the gun.

Knowing he shouldn't interfere, not yet anyway, Beth could handle whatever situation this might be. Still, he couldn't just leave it alone. What was he supposed to do? Slink out the front door and back to his quarters in the barn. Act like he saw nothing? No. He felt he owed her more than that. He couldn't leave her at that moment anymore than a tornado could stop spinning.

Daryl casually strutted out onto the porch. He showed no surprise when there was not only the man in the suit, but another man also, dressed all in black. Clearly a bodyguard of sorts.

"I believe Beth asked you to leave. I suggest y'all listen."

At the presence of Daryl, the man took a step back. "Who the is this?" Philip asked, holding up a hand to the man in black when he took a step forward. Afraid of nothing and no one, Daryl gave him a look of steal.

Showing his solidarity, he took stance behind Beth's shoulder. He had an idea of what this might look like; sans shirt, hair still damp from the shower, jeans slung low on his hips. This image gave the impression of domestic comfortableness. Bottom line, it didn't matter to him what this jackass in a suit that probably cost more than he'd ever made in a single year, thought. "I'm Daryl."

Philip scoffed, "Daryl? Got yourself a boy-toy, do you Beth?

Ignoring his question, she directed, "Daryl is right. You need to leave. Now."

The man looked as though he were insulted. "Going to let a man take over for you now?"

She let out a harsh laugh, "Hardly."

Thrown off by the strange man that stood behind Beth, seemingly more stubborn than her if that were possible, Philip said, "I'll go this time, but you know I'll be back."

"Save your gas. My answer will be no different."

The man gave a curt nod to Beth and, ignoring Daryl, he turned a heel on the dusty ground, with the man with red hair right behind him, he made his way back to the Escalade.

When they were back in the car and on the road, out of sight, Beth still stood in the same spot on the porch, arms crossed around her chest. A slight trembling running over her. 

Daryl questioned quietly, "Who was that?"

Beth turned on him, anger searing through her eyes. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"Hey, I wasn't fighting your battles, I was just tryin' to help." The memory of their shared moment was still fresh in his mind as he rose a knuckle to her flushed cheek and caressed it lightly. It was cliche to say she was beautiful when she was pissed off. But she really was. Eyes sharp, chest heaving with angered breath.

She hadn't expected him to touch her, and it caught her off guard. Feeling it deep down in the recesses of her body she softened, only briefly before fury surged again, a bull seeing red. She shoved his hand away.

"Don't be doin' me no favors Daryl. For months I've been tryin' to get that guy to listen to me. To see me as more than a little girl, unable to protect myself. And you jus' mess that all up when you came out here, sauntering around like my damn protector."

"Beth…" Pragmatically he could see her point. As far as she was concerned he had no business going out there. He just couldn't help himself.

Unwilling to listen to him, or any practicality he might interject, she interrupted him with a hand to his chest. Shoving lightly. "Don't. Please." The word came out as more of a desperate plea than she intended. "Just don't."

If he touched her again, the strong independence she tried desperately to personify would most likely crumble like dust. She stomped past him and through the screen door, slamming the main door behind her, flipping the lock.

. . .

The last thing she needed, no matter how much she wanted to give into it, was Daryl's help. Undermining all that she stood up to be in front of Philip and his goon. Philip saw her only as a little woman with no brains that could be easily intimidated. She fought to change that perception every time he came out to the house by standing up to him. Never backing down an inch. On her own. Never calling for help, never calling the Sheriff. She couldn't give a shit less what Philip thought, but it was important she remain steadfast and strong in front of him.

 _Daryl was only trying to help_ , an annoying voice niggled in the back of her mind.

Ignoring that voice, she stomped upstairs to her room, noticing as she walked past the bathroom, he had dutifully hung his towel on the rack. Irrationally this annoyed her even more.

"Ugh!" She groaned with disgust as she stomped to her bedroom. Kicking off her work boots, she went to stand at her window. Not to watch Daryl. Of course, not. It couldn't be helped if there was nothing else to see in the darkening landscape except for a lighted window in the barn. Through the window, Beth watched as Daryl adjusted the television, then leaning back on the cot, he unscrewed the top of the water bottle. Taking a long swig.

As her anger faded, her sensible side, the side she was desperately trying to ignore, told her she was being unreasonable. Daryl didn't deserve her lashing out at him. He probably wanted to genuinely help. And then, that touch. She felt it reverberate from the surface of her skin, down through her belly, sending a dull ache through her groin, before shooting down to her toes.

What really angered her the most, was that she didn't want him to stop there. How she wished for his hand to pull her close to him, touching his lips to hers. No! That couldn't happen. She swore to herself, after Jimmy - after what happened, she couldn't risk her heart being hurt again. Knowing, surely, this time it would completely disintegrate.

Beth was still staring out the window at Daryl watching the small black and white television, fighting the urge to go apologize, when her phone buzzed on her dresser. Picking up a green shirt she didn't recognize, she located her phone. She recognized the number and name that displayed on her screen and, fleetingly, considered not answering it. Knowing it was the last thing she needed at that moment. Curiosity got the better of her, though.  Jimmy hadn't called in three months. Why now? She couldn't get any _more_ pissed off, could she? 

Swiping her thumb across the screen she brought the phone to her ear, she said, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," the man on the other end said.

Suddenly exhausted, she went to her bed and plopped down, asking, "What's up?"

"Not much just wanted to talk to you."

Beth fell back onto her bed with an "Uff."

Oh, now he wants to talk. She hadn't heard from Jimmy in months. The last time they did speak, it did not go well. Both ended the call angry and hurt. It seemed like they were destined to hate one another.

Now, in the darkness of her bedroom, feeling beaten down and vulnerable, she felt drained. No longer did she feel angry with Jimmy. She didn't know quite what to feel.

"What do you want to talk about, Jimmy?"

"I was takin' a drive, trying to clear my head…and I found myself driving down your road."

Beth sat straight up. Well. She certainly wasn't expecting that. "What? You're where?"

"A few hundred feet from your place."

"No!" She exclaimed, partly not believing him, partly not wanting to believe him.

"See for yourself then," he teased smartly.

Beth went back to her window again. Sure enough, headlights reflected in through the window making her squint. She cut the call abruptly, tossing her phone on her bed as she went out her bedroom and back down the stairs.

She flipped the lock of the kitchen door. Never had she locked the door in her life, but it became a habit she forced herself into since Philip had started snooping around. Opening the door, she waited as he parked his Prius next to her Scout.

Jimmy unfolded himself from the ridiculously small car. He had always been tall, muscular. The miniscule car accentuated his height. The porch light cast him in a yellow light as he walked up the porch steps. Staring at her through the screen, he looked a bit like a lost puppy. His blonde hair had grown long but his eyes, his eyes were still the same deep blue they always had been. Part of her was shocked they hadn't turned a demonic red.

Since Beth's arms appeared to be glued to her sides, Jimmy opened the door for her, the screen sounding its customary screech. She stepped back to allow him into the house. He briefly looked around the room, and then his gaze fell to her face.

She could only imagine what he thought of her still living there. That she'd actually stuck with it. He had tried to reason with her. The house is a lot of work. And so far from town. _I ain't living way out there, like some country bumpkin_ , he insisted. He was against moving there from the second she first suggested it. Once he found out how much the property was worth, he became more adamant about selling.

It hurt her to hear him speak those words: _Just sell it._ How could she be with someone for years that had no idea where her heart truly belonged?

She left him in Atlanta in his new townhouse with every amenity he could ever want at the snap of his fingers, or a call of his cell phone. Just the thought of that city gave Beth a migraine.

They talked occasionally, mostly about the terms of the divorce, on the phone or through their lawyers. A safe distance from each other. Now, tonight, her past walked right back into her life again and she couldn't quite remember why she hated him so much.


	4. Baggage

**Sidenote: Just a reminder, while writing this I had envisioned Jimmy as Charlie Hunnam from Sons of Anarchy. If you don't know who that is, look him up right now. You won't regret it. You're welcome. More Daryl in the next chapter. ;)**

* * *

When it rained it poured, figuratively speaking anyhow. First, whatever was between her and Daryl gnawed at Beth. She didn't know him from Moses. Beth found herself to be a good judge of character, Jimmy notwithstanding, and Daryl seemed to be just that. Good. To date, she didn't even know his middle name. Or what he was doing wandering around her woods. He said he was looking for work...in the woods? Add to that, Philip's continued pressure for her to sell her property. Adding insult to the injury of her already damaged ego, her outburst directed at Daryl. And now Jimmy deciding to stop in for a "visit". Her heart began to pound in her ears.

Choosing the cool of the kitchen floor over the upstairs that can sometimes feel hot and stuffy, Echo lay on the kitchen floor. Eying Jimmy, he was ready to pounce at the slightest sign of his owners distress. Head leaning on her paws, looking up watching intently with his gray soulful eyes. Beth whispered something to the dog, her words mildly calming him. Still Echo watched Jimmy with loathing untrust.

Tired and in no mood for pretenses, she asked, "Jimmy, what are you really doin' here?"

"The divorce is finally final," Jimmy stated the obvious.

Beth knew this. It had been final for a long while now, their marriage had been over long before that.

"And… I missed you," he spoke quietly, looking at his feet. Beth had never seen him so subdued. He'd always been charismatic. He had one of those personalities that if he spoke to you in a room crowded full with people, you felt as though you were the only one in that room. He had the heart of a king. Until you crossed it. Then you became the dirt under his shoes. She was not sure where she now stood; where exactly in between his heart and the dirt under his shoe she was. It didn't really matter, she theorized. But still...

Being with him, in such close proximity, her body was beginning to forget why they got divorced in the first place. She reasoned it was normal to still feel something for someone you were once married to. After all they were connected by more than marriage. They were connected by a life, a life that no longer existed in a real sense but was still present, at least for Beth, everyday.

"You miss me? Is that true?" _God, please don't lie to me again_. Beth was skeptical. Jimmy was never fully trustworthy, he always had a card hid up his sleeve.

His eyes went up to hers. Without blinking, he answered, "Yes. We shared time, Beth. A divorce doesn't simply erase that." Jimmy walked to her and she fought the urge to step back, to move away from him when his fingers tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear, resting his palm on her cheek, right where her skin still vibrated from Daryl's touch.

"Is that so hard to believe?" He asked.

"Judging by the last time we spoke, yes."

"About that, I'm sorry for the things I said."

Beth didn't even remember how the argument had started but it ended up about money. It always seemed to be about money with Jimmy. The judge required him to pay her alimony, a small amount every month. She didn't want it, didn't want anything from him, especially his money The payments went directly to a charity, never even touching her hands.

Beth knew carrying around his baggage was not good for her. She could feel it poisoning her soul. Tanting it with its darkness. She tried somewhat unsuccessfully, to let go of their past. Right here, right now, she tried to remember why. They had loved each other once. Hadn't they?

They never made sense to Beth. The two of them together. Him, the star quarterback. Her, the hick from the country with old clothes, and a great smile that she plastered on her face.

. . .

_"Guess what?" HAmy asked Beth in the hallway as she retrieved her books from her locker for her next class._

_"What?" Beth asked. Her best friend, Amy, was about to burst with excitement. Her high ponytail shimmied when she swayed her head in anticipation._

_"So, I was sitting in Biology, bored outta' my mind. You know how Mr. Jones just goes on and on and on, really about nothin'."_

_"Oh, I have any idea." Beth smiled. Amy had a tendency to be a little long winded. They'd been friends since kindergarten, though, and she was loyal, unlike a lot of people in high school. Amy didn't seem to mind that Beth's clothes were not the latest fashion or that she wore cowboy boots and not the latest brand that cost way more money than her mother had in their limited budget to spend. She prefered the boots anyway, and she didnt care what other people thought. Not really anyway._

_"But anyway, so, Zach, who has woodshop with Jimmy, said he liked you!"_

_Beth paused, reshuffling her books, looking at Amy. "Who likes me? Zach?"_

_Amy snorted out a laugh. "No, dummy. That might actually make sense." Beth assumed it might make sense because Zach was a country kid, like herself. "Jimmy likes you."_

_Well, that was surprising. "Why on earth would he like me?" And what did 'like' mean anyway._

_Amy shut the locker for her as she shouldered her bag and they headed down the overcrowded hallway. "Duh, you're only the most pretty girl in school, and you're smart. And you're strong."_

_Beth scoffed with sarcasm. "Jimmy doesn't seem like the type to notice my smarts."_

_"Okay, so maybe he said you had a nice ass."_

_Beth nodded, that sounded more like something he'd say. She gave Amy a look out of the corner of her eye, dodging someone with a football and bad aim, "Strong?"_

_"Oh, you know what I mean. You're not like the other girls. You're not wimpy. You're different."_

_"Like, stop eating the paste different?" Beth laughed._

_Amy laughed and elbowed her in the ribs, she continued, "You're not like the other girls in school."_

_Beth smiled to herself. To her, that was a compliment._

_"So anyway, Jimmy told Zach not to say anything."_

_"But Zach told anyway?"_

_"Yeah, I just smile at him and he'd rob a bank for me. But, whaddya' think? Ain't that exciting?"_

_Beth, her mom and sister had been living in town for a while now and Beth was not happy about it. She missed the farm and her daddy. She belonged there and felt very much the outsider here. Maggie, between work and college, was hardly home. Her mother had to work long hours to barely make ends meet, so that left Beth home alone. A lot. Except for Amy and a couple other not as close friends, she was felt very much on her own in the world. A boyfriend was something she hadn't even considered. Jimmy was handsome. Gorgeous, actually. And popular. Beth, for only a second, fantasized what it would be like to be one of those girls walking down the hallway, holding her boyfriend's hand. Making plans for after school. Then, outside of her class, he'd kiss her goodbye before going off to his class._

_Maybe high school could be fun, instead of something she had to endure._

_"Do you, like, like him?"_

_Beth rolled her shoulders, "I don't really know him." Jimmy ran with the popular crowd. And, well, Beth didn't - which was fine by her._

_"What's not to like? He's hot."_

_"Oh, well in that case…" Beth laughed at Amy's philosophy on dating._

_Turning the corner, heading to the cafeteria they almost ran smack into a certain jock and his gaggle of friends. Instead of ignoring Beth, like the popular crowd usually did, Jimmy looked down at her and smiled. His teeth perfectly white and straight. His eyes as blue as the ocean reflecting the summer sky._

_Immediately Beth's cheeks began to redden and she looked down._

_"Hey." Jimmy's voice was deep, with the slightest country twang to it._

_Looking back up, she replied, "Uhh, hi."_

_Jimmy smiled again and skirted around her and Amy shouting something to one of his friends._

_"Oh. My. God. He's so into you." Amy practically squealed._

_Rolling her eyes at Amy, Beth felt a strange bubbling in her belly. Amy's excitement was contagious. Beth adjusted the strap of her bag and as she did, looked back over her shoulder in what she hoped was nonchalance, at Jimmy who was looking right at back at her._

. . .

"I can see your mind going a thousand miles a minute, Beth."

That much was the truth. He never calmed her mind, only sped it up.

He slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck under her ponytail, lightly squeezing. She closed his eyes, hating that she was still affected by his touch. He took a tentative step closer to her, toe to toe.

"You miss me?" he whispered, his lips hovering a murmur above hers.

It was the wrong time in all the wrong ways. Part of her, a big part, wanted to forget everything, if only for a moment. Forget the stack of bills. Forget Phillip and his bodyguard. She also wanted to forget the way Daryl's stare and naked chest made her go weak in the knees.

Hoping she had the strength to refuse him. Contemplating the right thing to say, she kept her eyes closed, _No. I don't miss you, I hate you. Never want to see you ever again…._

"It's a simple question, babe."

Damn it. "No," It was the simplified truth. She missed the idea of the their marriage. Of two people on the same side, fighting the world together. Falling asleep side by side each night. Having someone always there, even though he wasn't ever really "there".  She was different than the girl she was when they were married. For years she was scared to be alone. Now she craved it.

She didn't miss the grudge he could hold for weeks after an argument. She didn't miss the arguments themselves, especially as they escalated exponentially as time went on. The abusive words he flung out so easily. The way he would make her feel less than, like some dumb redneck from the sticks. Then they would make up, and things would be good again for a short while. What they lacked in communication they made up for in heat.

Beth missed when times were simpler. Though, in hindsight, she questioned if they were ever simpler. Where they ever happy? Truth was, they got married because she was pregnant. They were both so young. So naive. So clueless. You get pregnant, you get married. Simple as that. That's what everyone said anyway. When you lived in the bible belt of Georgia, that's how things went.

That little voice in the back of her mind yelled at her to stop. To step back away from him. She and Jimmy were inevitably poison to one another. She knew this, Beth knew she should listen to the little screaming voice, but she shut her mind off to it. She was only human after all, with needs and wants. This melancholia that overtook her wanted to be singed out, like a cigarette butt in a glass of water. What's the worst that could happen? Her heart couldn't become any more broken, could it?

Almost feeling herself sizzle, like that cigarette would, he pressed his lips to hers. And she let him.

It was…familiar. Wonderfully familiar, in a world where she often felt discombobulated. She placed her hands on his chest with every intention to push him away. Her hands had a mind of their own and instead of pushing him away, they crawled up to his shoulders and around his neck. Pulling her closer, his arms came around her waist, bumping into the Glock she had holstered there.

That took him by surprised and he pulled back. "Jesus, Beth. Why the hell do you have a gun on you?"

"Coyotes," she lied.

He shrugged and reached for the buckle of her belt and unbuckled it as he attacked her mouth with more vigor, their arms intermingling, searing every inch of their clothed bodies. He walked her backward out of the kitchen and to the stairway. It was a miracle neither fell or tripped as they make their way up the stairs, their mouths fused together. Jimmy walking forward, Beth walking backwards.

Once up the stairs and down the hallway, banging the bedroom door open with their bodies, he pulled the leather strap of her belt through the buckle and then through the belt loops. The belt and the gun making a flat thunking noise as it hit the hardwood floor. Beth allowed herself to be laid down on the bed. Jimmy pushed her shirt up, cupping her breasts, kissing down her neck, over the cross necklace she always wore. Pulling her shirt up over her head, sending it to the floor beside her bed. Impatiently, he pushed her bra up almost frantic for her skin. Flicking her nipple into a taunt peak, her back arching when he scraped his teeth. He deftly reached around to her back and unhooked her bra, removing it.

It all seemed too familiar, yet so different. They were different people now, or at least, she was. Still, his hands felt the same, his lips were a carbon copy of the past.

Beth traced her hands down to the snap of his jeans, unbuttoning the fly, unzipping it slowly. Leaning up in between her knees, he reached behind him, and removed his shirt in one smooth movement over his head. Pulling down his jeans and boxers with one swift motion, kicking them to the floor, he lowering himself back to her. Placing kisses down the length of her torso; Beth's taunt skin broke out in gooseflesh. Hastily, he undid her jeans, pulling them down, down over her jutting hipbone, thighs then over her knees, as he rid her of her jeans and underwear.

Through the haze of sex, Beth was relieved to find out she no longer felt what she once did for Jimmy. It was only sex, two bodies meeting. Two bodies chasing an invisible release. Her body responded for the sheer act of the deed itself, not because she felt anything deep for Jimmy.

With that line of thinking, her mind told her stop, her heart agreeing, but her body…her body needed to be touched, needed to be used. She wanted that glorious worn out, used up, clouded-brain feeling that came with meaningless sex.

. . .

Afterward, regret began to seep into the parfilary of Beth's psyche. The light from the hallway shimmied through the open doorway. Through it was dim, it felt like a spotlight on Beth's shame.

The sheets crinkled as Jimmy reached out his hand, tucking a piece of hair that rested over her face behind her ear. "You okay?" He asked, a bit out of breath.

She nodded. Eyes closed. Meaningless sex had left her feeling used up alright, but not in the way she hopped. She just felt empty. And guilty. What if Jimmy thought this was some sort of a reconciliation. He had been the one to seek her out.

Reaching his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him. "Open your eyes."

Taking a deep breath, she did as he asked. Those deep blue eyes burrowed into her own. Regret flashed into her like a dam that finally cracked open. Slow at first through a fission, then all the sudden bursting through the busted concrete.

Laying still the sheet pulled up tightly to her collarbone, not knowing what to do, or what to say. She had never been promiscuous. The only man she had ever been with was Jimmy. When they had finally slept together when they were younger, she thought she'd loved him. Now, she knew without a doubt, she no longer did. She closed her eyes again, hoping for sleep. Hoping that by the morning she would of formulated what to say to him.

Apparently he did not read the regret that had to be shining on Beth's face because just as she was beginning to doze off, Jimmy's voice brought her back to the surface. "I have something I want to tell you," he said.

 _Oh no, please don't say you still love me_ , she agonized to herself. _What I have a done?_

"Would ya' look at me?"

She did. Her eyes searching his for any idea of what he might want to say.

"Someone named Philip Blake contacted me the other day. Ya' know him, right?"

To say the least, that was not what she was expecting him to say. She recoiled as if he had slapped her. Instinctively pulling back, putting some distance between herself and him.

"What? Why the hell would he contact you?"

With an excited smile, he said, "He told me what he wants to pay you for this place."

Speechless she only stared at him.

"That's a hefty price he's offering you."

"Wait…I'm confused." She said, sitting up, pulling the sheet close to her naked body. Vulnerability of a different kind creeping in.

"Philip contacted you. Why? " She asked, trying to wrap her mind around it. She was no dummy and it quickly came to her why Philip would contact Jimmy. "To try to get you to talk me into selling? Is that it?"

"It's not like that." He reached toward her. She recoiled from his touch and jumped out of bed, letting the sheet fall to the floor, too indignant to care. She reached for the flannel that hung on a hook on the back of the door, and wrapped it around herself. Trying to fight off a chill so cold it made her bones ache.

"Then what exactly is it like?"

Jimmy sat up, resting his elbows on his bent knees, running his fingers through his mussed hair. "I knew you'd overreact," he said under his breath.

"Overreact? Overreact! Honey, let me tell you, ya' ain't seen the beginning of overreacting yet. You go behind my back, try to strike a deal and what? He'd give you a portion of the proceeds. Some sort of finder's fee?" Beth felt ashamed, she should've known he carried an ulterior motive. Shame washed through her as she realized she had her own ulterior motive herself; sex to make her feel again. Feel something, anything other than the emptiness it ended up bringing. And now this...

"Don't you see? You could sell this place for what he's offering, then we could take the money he gives me and the money he gives you and start over again, anywhere you want."

Beth felt herself implode, literally seeing red. "I am where I want to be! Why don't you understand that? Is that why you came up here? To get me into bed, soften me up to the idea of making you a quick buck?"

Jimmy, hung his head. No answer was needed. Beth got her answer the second he looked away.

She swallowed her shame, and stood tall. "I want you to leave. Now."

"Don't be that way, Beth. Let's talk about this. All that money…it will open doors for us."

"Us? Let's be honest, you are doin' this for yourself. Get the hell outta' my house!"

"Not until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk 'bout."

The real Jimmy appeared then. The one that went from calm to a tantrum in two seconds flat if he didn't get his way. He exploded, jumping to his feet, naked as the day he was born. He raised his voice, "Don't be so damn selfish. Beth. You can't be happy here. Sell the property, take your money and I'll take mine. You owe me this."

My God, he's denser than Philip, Beth thought.

"I don't owe you shit! How do you figure you're entitled to a damn cent of this house? This is my families land. My daddy's house! You want me to sell it just so you can get a cut of it. But I'm the selfish one?"

It occurred to her then, maybe he was right, maybe she was selfish. If that was the case, then so be it. She would never betray her father's memory by selling out.

She turned her back to him so he wouldn't see the tears that threatened to fall. "Get out."

"Beth…"

She just wanted him gone. Out of her sight. Her head was starting to pound. Spinning around, snatching the gun from the holster where it had been discarded on the floor earlier, and pointed it at him.

Taking a step back, he put up his hands in retreat, "Shit Beth, what do you think you're doin'?"

"I'm tellin' you one last time. Get the hell outta here."

"You can't be serious."

Beth held the gun steady, bringing her trigger finger to the safety, pushing its release. "Try me."

She took mild satisfaction in watching him scramble for his clothes, before hustling out the bedroom half dressed.

She held the Glock upright until she heard the kitchen door screeched open and then shut. She clicked the safety back on, dropping the gun, following it to the floor when her legs gave into the exhaustion of her mind. Her body began shaking with sobs that came from deep within her soul. A million regrets ran through her mind. Mostly her regret steamed from ever letting Jimmy through the door and back into her life. Angry with herself, she should've known better.


	5. Chapter 5 - Anarchy on the Farm

**Thank you so much for reading/commenting! As I go through this story, I find myself rewriting the majority of it, instead of just fixing the grammatical errors, which was my initial intention. But the bones of the story are still intact. Hope you enjoy the new chapter. :)**

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While watching TV, Daryl fought the urge to go to Beth and apologize for interfering. It was only instinct, trying to help her - even if he was unsuccessful. A smile crept his lips, he wasn't ready to die just yet, so staying put, watching an old movie he couldn't really concentrate on, sounded like the best idea. Beth was surefire piss and vinegar when she wanted to be. She was a force to be reckoned with and he liked that about her.

Headlights flashing through his window interrupted his thoughts. Up in a snap, he snatched up the duffle bag he kept at the foot of the cot and dug inside blindly. His hand finally found the leather scabbard he was looking for. Pulling it free from the tangle of clothes, he removed the knife from the sheath. The eight inch blade of the Brusse Team Gemini knife shone brightly in the reflection of the television.

He didn't wear it out in the open, often tucking it into his boot. A knife of such size often frightened people. More so than his crossbow. But, if Beth felt the need to carry the glock and now knowing _why_ she felt the need to carry it, maybe he should have a weapon on hand also. Attaching it to his belt, Daryl quickly made his way down the hallway, peering through the opening in the barn doors. Beth never shut them fully, allowing a space of about five inches for the barn cats and other strays giving them a place to sleep at night, conveniently giving him a view of the back porch of the house.

He was not interfering, he tried convincing himself.

He was protecting.

No, that wasn't the right word either. It was clear Beth didn't need his interfering or protecting. He just had to be sure it wasn't the man in the suit, back again to cause more trouble. Through the barn doors, in the dim light shining from the porch he saw the man that got out of the Prius was not the suite, or his bodyguard. This man was taller, blonde. He watched as Beth, standing a few inches away from the door, freely let him into the house. Surely, she wouldn't allow him admittance into her home if she did not want him there.

Searching for justification as to why he still watched the house.

He was _not_ interfering.

He was only watching. Which didn't sound a whole lot better.

Waiting, for what he wasn't sure.

Waiting... having a smoke. That was all. He took a cigarette out of his front breast pocket, lighting it, he took a deep drag and blew smoke into the air above him. The tendrils of smoke danced above him like ghostly white fingers in the darkness of the night.

Once again, Daryl found himself unable to turn his back on Beth. Instead, he went out into the yard and wandered around. The yard was lit by a small porch light, as well as the white glow of the half moon, giving him just enough light to see. Trying his best to not think about who was in there with Beth and what they might be doing. Instead he chain smoked, talked to the horse, played catch with the dogs that roamed free but stayed, for the most part, on the property.

A while later, Daryl decided to give up his watch. He started back to the barn with his heart inexplicably heavy, which didn't make a lick of sense. What right did he have to feel the least bit of anything about this situation? He had no ties to this place, or to this girl. He could up and leave right then...nothing was keeping him there. That wasn't exactly true either. But then, a half clothed man shot through the porch door like a bat out of hell. Daryl hung back in the shadow of a large Poplar tree and watched as the man climbed back into the car and backed out of the driveway onto the dirt road. Spraying gravel when he flung it into gear and punched the gas, his headlights shining out into the night.

Once the man was gone and not coming back, Daryl went to the kitchen door, all thoughts of leaving forgotten. Even though Beth was mad at him, he had to be sure the man had not caused her harm. Looking through the screen into the darkened kitchen, backlit by a light somewhere deep in the house, Echo paced to the screen pressing her nose against the wire mesh. Whining, obviously distressed. Standing guard, perhaps. Maybe, just as him, making sure the man that had just hightailed it out of there did not come back. Daryl lifted his hand and pressed it to the screen, feeling the cold wetness of Echo's nose. "It's okay, I'll stand guard. Echo, go to her. Go on," he whispered. Echo whined one last time, let out a little yelp and ran from the kitchen disappearing into the dark.

Deciding against it, he thought about knocking. Beth made it clear, she did not want him meddling in her business. Personal or otherwise. So, lightly touching his palm to the cold metal frame of the screen door, he backed away. Leaving Beth alone as she wanted. Instead of returning to the barn though, he sat down on one of the chairs that lined the porch and leaned his head back. While she might not want him there, Daryl knew he couldn't leave her and this was as close as she would allow him to be.

. . .

The noises of the farm stirring for the day woke Daryl. At some point he must of dozed off because his neck hung uncomfortably to the right and pain shot through it as he tried to straighten it. Swearing he stretched his neck to the right and then the left. Rising, pain shot through his back. When he was younger he could sleep anywhere. Did sleep anywhere, matter of fact. Beds, couches, cots, sleeping bags on the ground, the bed of various trucks, and the backseat of numerous cars. Anywhere. Not any longer apparently.

He didn't want Beth to catch him on her porch, so he slunk back to the barn to begin morning chores, hoping the movement would loosen up his sore muscles.

When Beth hadn't come out of the house by nine - a good three hours later than normal, Daryl began to worry. Screw this, he thought and stomped off to the house and up the steps. It'll be just too damn bad if she didn't want him there. He hadn't known her long, but he knew enough that she would never neglect her animals. He faced the door and banged on it with his fist.

No response.

Going back down the steps and to the side of the house her bedroom window faced. He knelt and chose a few rounded pebbles he guessed to be the perfect size and weight. Then standing, he reared his hand back he flung a small rock at the window. It bounced off with a small smack. A second and third pebble followed.

"Beth, ya' in there?" He hollered up. Waiting a second, then throwing another rock. Seeing a shadow cross the curtained room, he yelled up again, "If you don't answer me I'm gonna kick down your door." Unnecessary, because it was still open from the night before. She needed to know he was serious.

Beth groaned under the cover of her blanket, knowing he probably would kick her door in all the while carrying that half smirk on his face. Enjoying himself.

"Son of a bitch," she mumbled and kicked the blankets off. Standing, she pulled back the curtain and glared down at him, slamming the window open. Feeling the breeze in her skin, she quickly remembered she only wore that flannel jacket. Unbuttoned. Quickly, she kneeled onto the floor, leaning her forearm on the windowsill, while her other arm held the jacket shut, peeking her head out the window. Her head pounded, her body ached. She wanted to sleep the rest of the day, forget everything that happened the night before.

She growled out, "Whaddya' want Daryl?" Yes. She was being a bitch. No. She didn't care. Maybe that was a big fat lie. Just add it to the list.

"Just wonderin' if you were joining me and the animals today. They miss you." And maybe he also missed her. He had become accustomed to the cheer she brought to the day. To _his_ day. He could sense her loneliness, but the contentment she felt in her day to day life was contagious. When he was with her he didn't feel the constant need to move on from where he was. She drowned out his wandering spirit.

Most woman would look bed rattled after a night of crying, Daryl supposed. Not Beth. Even from this distance he could see delicate woundedness in her beautiful features. Her hair was a mess, sleep hung heavy on her face, giving her a smoldering heavy lidded look. Her lips were deliciously swollen. Furthermore, she wore that old flannel jacket...unbuttoned with nothing on underneath. It didn't allow him to see much before she snatched it closed. Those few glorious seconds and that three inch gap of the the jacket opening offered him a view of her milky white smooth skin, making him want to kiss every inch. Make her smile again.

"I think you can handle it. Isn't that what I hired you for?"

He wasn't offended by her snide remark, more humored by her sour mood. "Actually you hired me to repair your roof. I don't know nothin' 'bout animals."

He began teasing her, wanting nothing more than to get a smile from her. Maybe even a laugh. "You don't come out here soon, all hell's gonna' break loose. I overheard the dogs conspiring with the calf. What'd you name him? Spunky?" On more than one occasion, he'd overheard her baby talk to the calf, calling him by that name "I think he's paying the dogs to break him outta the fence. Anyway, pretty soon it's gonna be all out anarchy."

Beth let out a snort, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. He didn't need to see her face to know there was emotion under that laugh. Daryl's chest began to ache under his sternum. How women can cry and laugh at the same time was beyond him.

Giving in, she said, "I'll be down in a minute."

. . .

Leaning against the post of the porch, smoking again, Beth finally came out dressed for the day. Her hair damp from a quick shower, pulled back into her trademark ponytail. Muck's tucked into very worn, very tight skinny jeans. The flannel pulled close over a blue t-shirt. .

Her eyes were rimmed red from fresh tears. Daryl felt torn. Should he acknowledge what he saw? Should he ask her about it? What if she just wanted to ignore it, get on with her day?

When she was on the second step, making her eyes level with his, he gruffly asked, "What's this about?" Raising a hand, gesturing to her reddened eyes.

No answer. Beth looked down, her nose reddening with fresh emotion. He lifted his hand to wipe away a tear that managed to escape, stopping short. He wanted to touch her so badly his fingers ached. That was the last thing either of them needed right then. Touching her would be the end of him.

Clearing her throat, she looked back to Daryl. "That guy last night?"

"The suit?" He asked speaking of Phillip, playing dumb.

She looked at him knowingly. "You know as well as I do who I mean." Of course Daryl would have known she had another visitor last night. He was way too aware of his surroundings to not notice someone pulling down the driveway.

He nodded for her to continue. "The Prius."

"That was my ex-husband."

Beth was married? His line of vision went down to her empty ring finger.

"He came out here to talk," her voice dipped. "We had sex instead," she admitted bluntly.

 _Shit._ He felt utterly helpless. What's he supposed to say to that? Daryl was beginning to learn Beth held no pretenses, she said what she thought. The honest truth. That much, he could appreciate.

She had no idea why she felt compelled to tell Daryl what happened. Once Beth started talking about it, she found she couldn't stop. She had nothing to hide. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they didn't really know one another. Daryl was someone she had no ties to, making her confession easier. What happened last night wasn't one of the most proudest moments in life. But, everyone was entitled to a mistake. Daryl looked to be the type of man that understood mistakes and redemption.

"Turns out he was just trying to trick me into selling my land so he could get a cut of the money." She closed her eyes as tears fell quietly down her face. "I was so stupid. Jumping in bed with him like that..." She trailed off.

Flicking the smoke to the pebbled ground, he ground it out with the toe of his boot. "Bastard," Daryl whispered, blowing smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

Before Daryl could get the wrong idea, like this was all Jimmy's fault, she said, "I'm not any better 'n him."

Beth saw Daryl beginning to dispute this claim, she held up a hand to stop him. "I used him too, jus' in a different way. I wanted to feel somethin'. Anything. Mindless sex. Now I just feel used up. Ya' know? Does that make sense?"

Daryl nodded. It did make sense. He'd been there before. Using sex, drugs, alcohol. Whatever it took to numb the pain. The difference for Beth was that this wasn't her usual way. She didn't have sex just because she could.

"It is different, Beth," Daryl insisted. "We all done things in our lives we regret. Way I see it, he's the stupid one. Doin' that to you." _And that prick had better not show his ugly face 'round here again. If he does, he'll meet a very pissed off wanderer with an eight inch knife. No matter what Beth thinks of my interfering_.

Beth nodded, "Still, I shouldn't have…"

"No. You weren't in the wrong there. You probably shouldn't of had sex with him," Daryl conceded. "Your ex sounds like a first rate asshole. What he did to you, that was wrong. It doesn't take a genius to know what this house, this land, what it all means to ya'."

He also didn't have to ask her what her response to Jimmy wanting to sell the house was. He knew without a doubt what she told him; hoping it started with a _Fuck_ and ended with an _Off_.

"Anyone that knows anything about you, I suspect, knows you ain't the kinda girl that can bang meaninglessly."

How could a stranger see it and someone she was married to at one time couldn't? Wiping her face with the sleeve of her flannel, sniffling. His words made her want to cry all over again. And laugh at the same time. 'Bang meaninglessly?' Very eloquently put and very true.

Beth let out a deep belly laugh. Her mother's long forgotten words drifted through her mind; _The way to a girls heart is to make her forget all her problems and make her laugh_. Jimmy never made her laugh, not in the way Daryl did. The thought made her feel fuzzy, light headed in a way. Like she stood up too fast.

"Come on, finish chores with me. Then maybe I'll make you lunch for a change. It's a hell of a lot better than hiding out in your bed all day."

His words were so simple yet they made her feel immensely better. It was just sex. Mediocre sex at that. Beth had never been one to treat sex so flippantly. It may seem silly and old fashioned, she had always felt making love should be reserved for someone you actually loved. Daryl, while acknowledging sleeping with Jimmy was not a good thing, he didn't make it into more than it was. Just a mistake, an error in judgment. Everyone was allotted a mistake, weren't they? Life would go on.

"Well." Beth stood straighter, swallowing what was left of her tears. "We wouldn't want anarchy on my farm." A small wounded smile played across her perfectly pink lips.

"Thata' girl." He winked, briefly brushed his hand over hers that grasped the railing, raw nerve endings firing off under his skin.

. . .

They worked the morning chores together. And it turned out Daryl wasn't a half bad cook. If you count grilled cheese as an actual meal. Which she, of course, did.

That afternoon, instead of going off on his own, Daryl stuck close to the house. Neither talked about it, while both were aware of him finding jobs that kept him close to Beth. Getting up on the roof and assessing the damage, discovering it wasn't as bad as Beth initially thought, making a mental note of what it would take to repair it. He fixed a loose board on the porch she had been meaning to do herself before winter set in. Chopping up a felled tree. After finding everything he could possibly to do he suggested they take a ride.

"You mean together?" Beth asked, curious. Her heart fluttered a tiny bit faster at the prospect. She appreciated his presence that afternoon. Having him close by was a comfort she didn't know she needed.

"Yeah." Daryl placed the tools back into the box, carrying it to the barn, walking next to Beth.

"I only got the one riding horse." Duh, he knew this.

"Okay, you ride, I'll walk."

And so they did. Her riding bareback on Lakota, not wanting to bother with a saddle, she threw a blanket over her back. Lakota meandered slowly, Daryl walked next to them, lighting another smoke. Through the barn, out the side yard, past the family cemetery where her daddy and grandparents and other family members were buried. Out past the large Elm tree she fell out of when she was ten and broke her arm. Past the dilapidated barn that needed to be torn down before it fell down in the next storm. She had so many memories, every landmark spoke to her, whispering all the secrets they shared.

And Daryl was just there. For her in a way no one else quite was. Not speaking, not trying to fill the silence with idle chit chat. Not filling her mind with false bravado. No empty words.

Beth dismounted Lakota at the foot bridge allowing her to get a drink from the stream. Sitting in her usual spot, patting the bleached out wood next to her. "Come on, I won't bite," looking up to Daryl, repeating the words from their first meal together.

This time he didn't hesitate, lowering himself next to her, their elbows touching. They sat for a while, listening to the cooling breeze breathing through the trees. The sounds of rippling of rocks over water.

Leaning back on her hands, face raised to the sky, much like that first day Daryl came across her. Even then, he knew she loved this place. It was quintessentially her.

Without looking at him, she spoke quietly, "I'm sorry for last night. Freaking out on you like that."

Chewing on a blade of grass, Daryl shrugged his shoulders. "Ain't nothin'."

"But it was." She looked at him then. "I can be a little…" she paused searching for the right word, "crazy, sometimes."

Again, he did not deny her words. Never sugar coating her mistakes, or his own. "Far as I can tell, the prettier the girl the more nuts she is. Which makes you insane."

Instead of taking issue with his words, like the average woman would, Beth's lips twitched at the corners, then her mouth turned upward. She smiled at him so genuinely he could literally feel the heaviness in her soul begin to loosen.

And, oh hell, Daryl knew he was in trouble.

* * *

**This quote: "Far as I can tell, the prettier the girl the more nuts she is. Which makes you insane." is from a great but heartbreaking movie called Blue Valentine.**


	6. When it's Right

Life went on, just the same. But, not the same. There was a shift in the air between Beth and Daryl since that day she had slept with Jimmy. There was a comfortableness between them now. An easy flow. They were learning each other's moods and idiosyncrasies. What made them tick. What made them them.

Daryl wasn't afraid of hard work. Sought it out, actually. He was broody and quiet the majority of the time, still keeping most of what he said to a minimum. Though he was opening up more each day, she appreciated this about him. So many people spoke to hear the sound of their own voices. Daryl was the opposite. It wasn't because he was aloof or didn't care or wasn't paying attention. He always paid attention to the slightest little thing. The slightest change in Beth's mood, to the slightest shift in weather. Always thinking. Always aware.

And Daryl always observed Beth. Learning she had an aversion to tomatoes, and loved Hostess cupcakes and kept them stashed in the back of the fridge. When she frowned, the bridge of her nose creased. When she smiled fully, her eyes lit up Daryl's little world. Daryl learned she was happiest while riding Lakota, meandering slowly along one of the trails, Echo following not far behind. He was learning when to give her space (and vise versa). A woman didn't live by herself this far out of town because she liked people in her face.

He understood that. He felt the same way. Being on the farm was the first time that he could remember feeling at home. Putting up permanent residence in that little office/bedroom, not only seemed doable, it was what he wanted to do. If he was being truly honest with himself, though, he wanted to be in the main house. With Beth.

"Tomorrow, I thought I'd go to town. See my sister. Get the supplies for the roof job."

"Kay." Daryl answered, pretending to be preoccupied with the construction of the temporary stall for Spunky. He was very aware of Beth and her tiny tank top she wore, hugging every inch of her upper torso like a second skin. So distracted by her, three times he had to remeasure the length of the board that needed to be cut.

Along the other side of the barn, she stacked the wood from the felled tree that he'd chopped in preparation for the cooler winter months. Bending, lifting, stacking. Her movements flowing methodically. When she lifted the wood, the hem of her shirt stretched up showing a sparse inch of skin, making Daryl's mouth water.

Beth stopped stacking, leaned her arms over the stall post to catch her breath. In turn, she was mesmerized by Daryl's ability to just picture something, a stall for example, and then build it using lumber he found lying around. He had a mechanical mind and the hands to bring the image in his head to reality.

Watching him work now, Beth became momentarily transfixed by the curve of his broad shoulders. He'd discarded his shirt a while ago, his back muscles reverberated when he moved. A faint six pack shadowed above his Levis. She found herself wondering what would feel like to run her fingers down...

"Ya' hear me?" He asked, looking over his shoulder.

_Opps! Busted._

Beth turned her back to him to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks. He grinned his crooked grin at her back. Now it was his turn to get lost. He didn't know too many woman that cut, split and stacked their own firewood. Beauty, brains and muscle.

"Na. What'd you say?" She asked, lifting a partially large split of wood, tossing it on the stack that was now taller than her. That milky skin peeking out.

"I said jus' don't forget the 3 inch roofing nails while you're in town"

"Actually, I was wonderin' if maybe you wanted to come with. I don't know exactly what you need for the roof. It'd just be easier if you was there." And well, she wanted his company.

The idea of going to town after weeks of wonderful solitude didn't sit well with Daryl. He could easily live out here, no neighbors, no one poking their nose in where it doesn't belong. Just him and Beth…

Beth wanting him to go with her, even just to pick out supplies, was the only reason he'd even considered leaving the property.

"I guess I could go."

There. There was that smile that gave him a melty feeling in his stomach.

"Great! We'll head out after morning chores."

. . .

The next day, Daryl found himself roaming around the house, waiting for Beth so they could get on the road. In the less formal living room the furniture was much more comfortable looking, much more Beth. The television hung on the largest wall above a dresser she repurposed as a hutch. The drawers were removed and used as shelves instead. DVD's lined one shelf and books lined the other. Kneeling down, he perused the books. It held everything from romance novels to biographies. _So this is how she spent her time out here, all alone._

That unfamiliar longing came over Daryl again. He had a split second image of sitting on the couch, Beth nestled next to him book in hand while he watched something mindless on TV. Taking a breath, he picked out the only book that was familiar, The Shining by Stephen King. He'd seen the movie a few times when he was younger, never having read the book.

Beth came up behind him as he thumbed through the worn copy. "You can borrow that if you want."

He startled, and quickly shoved the book back into the shelf. Guilty, as though he was caught looking at a nudey magazine. Beth snickered.

"Jesus, woman. Make some noise next time, will ya'?" He hadn't even heard her coming down the stairs, he was so caught up in his ridiculous little fantasy.

Standing back to his full height, he noticed Beth looked...different. Not in a bad way, not at all. She wasn't dressed up by any means either, wearing a sleeveless purple, flowing peasant top with turquoise little flowers sewn along the neckline. Jean cutoff shorts with frayed edging, allowing him a view of her long pearly white legs, leaving him tongue tied.

Her hair was down. Longer than he'd realized, having never seen it down besides the first day they meant. And then, he'd not really been paying much attention to her hair. Today, it was brushed glossy, hanging down to her lower back. Daryl shoved his hands in his pockets so he wouldn't be tempted to touch it's silky smoothness. And, if he wasn't mistaken, she was wearing that goop that women put on their eyelashes.

"What?" She questioned. "You're lookin' at me weird."

He cleared his throat. "Nothin', nothing. Just never seen you wear make-up."

Self conscious, she rose a hand to her cheek, then down her hair, tucking it behind her ear. "Oh. It's just a little mascara."

_Mascara! That's what it's called._

She looked amazing. But, of course, he couldn't say that. So instead he teased her. "You're all fancy. We are just goin' to town, right?"

"I only showered. Brushed my hair. Geeze." She lightly slugged him playfully on the shoulder.

"Ouch." He feigned pain, rubbing the spot she'd punched. "Ya' know, we got a few minutes. You wanna change into a ball gown?"

Beth fought back a laugh. "Shut it." She grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to the door. 

"Come on. We gotta get goin' if we are going to meet Maggie on time and Maggie is a stickler for punctuality." Side effect of being the first born, Beth guessed.

At the door she slipped on her cowboy boots as Daryl continued to tease. "Boots? You sure you don't wanna wear some high heels?"

"Remember when you wouldn't speak unless I spoke to you first? Them were the days." She retorted, a feigned fondness in her voice, as they walked out onto the porch.

. . .

As the sisters hugged in greeting, Daryl hung back awkwardly not knowing what to do. He was relieved to see they were meeting Maggie and her new boyfriend at a simple little diner. Nothing fancy. He always felt awkward around people, especially people he didn't know. Inept with his southern drawl and backwoods country ways. He wasn't no architect or builder or whatever the hell Maggie's clean shaven city slicker boyfriend was. Daryl felt his hackles rise in needless defense.

"It's so good to see ya'," Beth crooned, her voice muffled by Maggie's shoulder.

"You too. I've missed you so much." The girls finally released one another, still holding hands.

They looked nothing alike. Where Beth had her blonde hair and blue eyes and fair skin, Maggie had dark hair with green eyes. Her skin a shade deeper than Beths. Maggie was tall, Beth was shorter. Maggie held an air of sophistication with her button up silky blouse and designer jeans with diamonds in the shape of a celtic cross on the back pockets. Beth was wonderfully Beth in her cutoffs and boots.

"This is Glenn," Maggie beamed, motioning toward the man standing next to her.

Beth took his offered hand. "Glad to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"Nice to meet you too."

Then everyone turned their attention to the tall stranger hanging back from the group.

"Glenn and Maggie this is Daryl, my...uhh...friend. He's stayin' at the farm with me for a while, helping out."

Taken aback, Beth hadn't mentioned bringing a "friend" and she definitely hadn't said anything about anyone staying with her. Maggie recovered quick enough. "Hi Daryl. Glad you could join us."

Conversation was a bit awkward at first, but once their food came things lightened up, bouncing around from what Glenn did for a living - architect, to Maggie's job - Graphic Designer, to the farm and the roof needing repair. Daryl mostly kept quiet. Going to his standby of speaking only when he absolutely had to.

They were almost through with lunch when Glenn asked Daryl what he did for work.

Daryl leaned back, casually putting his arm on the plastic booth behind Beth's head. Shrugging, he answered, "I work."

"Doing?" Maggie asked picking up on his attitude.

"Anything. Whatever I can find, mostly."

Beth was confused by his sudden attitude change. On their trip into town he'd been in what seemed to be in a good mood, though it was kind of hard to tell. She looked over at him, noticing his whole demeanor had changed. His face was a blank slate, his eyes squinted as though the sun was too bright even though they were inside. His mouth was set in a grim line.

"Daryl. She's just curious about you is all. " Truth be told the longer he stayed with her the more she wondered about him and where he came from. He surely didn't just appear out of the thin blue air that day at the bridge.

"It's alright, Beth." Maggie said, suddenly very busy with her half eaten salad.

Changing the subject completely, Beth asked, "How long have you two been...together?" She decided that was the best way to phrase it. What did grown-ups do? Date, go out? She'd only went out with Jimmy and that began way back in high school. Beth was a little out of practice in the whole dating scene.

"About three months? That right?" Maggie looked to Glenn for clarification.

"Yep." Glenn put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing lightly. "Don't you think you should tell her?" He asked Maggie.

"Tell her...me what?" Beth asked.

"Well." Maggie looked down at her lap.

"We... Glenn and I. We are engaged." She lifted her gaze to Beth's. Holding out her hand, showing off a giant diamond ring on her fourth finger. Beth wondered how she missed that giant iceberg throughout lunch.

"I know it's quick." Glenn began, stammering for the right words. "But I love Maggie. She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Once you know it's right, why waste time?" Maggie added.

Beth's eyes went to Daryl, quickly going back to her half eaten burger on the her plate. How do you know when it's right? She thought it was right with Jimmy, evidently she'd been wrong.

Seconds passed awkwardly.

"Your being okay about this is very important to Maggie. To me." Glenn stated.

Finally, Beth's mouth caught up with her racing thoughts. She squealed, putting her hand to her mouth to stifle the sound. Hating herself for being a cliche girl and actually squealing, but, what the hell? How many times does your sister get engaged.

"Of course I'm okay with this! Oh Maggie!" Beth jumped out of the booth, pulling her sister to her feet from the other side and put her arms around her. "I'm so happy for you!"

Beth then plopped down where Maggie had been sitting and enveloped Glenn in an embrace. Surprised, he hugged her back, smiling at Maggie over Beth's shoulder. They'd hoped she would take the news well.

Beth eventually released Glenn and got up, returning to her own seat, allowing Maggie to sit back next to Glenn. Hoping no one saw the tears that stung her eyes.

Growing ever more uncomfortable, the eternal outsider, Daryl stood and said, "I'm goin' out for a smoke," Forcing Beth up again, allowing him to slide out of the booth. And, without saying another word, he made his way outside. Her eyes followed him. She was befuddled by him. How hard was it to sit there and look happy for a newly engaged couple? Refocusing her attention back on Maggie and Glenn, she slid back into the booth.

"So, when do you guys want to get married? Like a big ceremony or jus' something small?"

Maggie, all sisterly business now, asked, "Beth what are you thinkin? Letting this Daryl guy stay with you at the farm. Alone."

"He's a hard worker, you just caught him on a bad day or something." Beth began to feel defensive.

"How do you know that? Do you know anything about him?"

"I know plenty about him." She fibbed.

"Like what? Where did you even find him?"

Beth knew she was in for it now, but she couldn't lie to Maggie. "He just showed up one day. Needed a place to stay. He needed work."

To say Maggie looked horrified was an understatement. Her green eyes sparkled and her nostrils flared.

Beth hurriedly went on, trying to explain. "He stays in daddy's office in the barn. It's not like he's sleepin' in my bed."

_Yet._

Where had that come from, Beth wondered.

"Jesus Beth, he's not one of your stray animals! Don't be so naive. You can't trust everyone."

Beth rolled her eyes. Anger pitting on her stomach. "Don't start with that sanctimonious bullshit, Maggie," she said, wondering if Maggie would ever see her as an adult capable of making her own decisions. "You don't know nothin'. He's a good person and very helpful around the farm."

"But, the fact remains you don't know him. He could be a serial killer for all you know."

"Oh please Maggie. You have no idea what it's like running the farm by myself." Beth knew it wasn't fair to throw that in her sister's face. Her sister didn't know half of what happened on the farm because Beth chose not to tell her. Maggie had no idea financially what it took to keep things afloat. How hard it was physically. She didn't know that Philip Blake was still pestering her, or what had happened with her and Jimmy. Maggie didn't know what a comfort it was to have Daryl there, a warm able body on her side to help out.

But still. Technically it was Beth's house and it was most definitely her life. She stood, throwing a twenty dollar bill on the table, saying, "Well I'm sorry he's not up to your standards, Maggie, but it's my life and my choice to have him stay with me. Now, I have to go drain my bank account just so I can repair the roof of the house we grew up in." With that Beth walked away from her sister and her future brother-in-law. So much for first impressions.

. . .

"What the hell's wrong with you? Haven't you ever been around people before?" Beth had been quiet on their trip to the bank and then the hardware store, only speaking when she absolutely had to. Now she and Daryl were back home, unloading the supplies to fix the roof, as well as a few groceries from the grocery store. A few amenities that made life simpler. Five pounds of flour, five pounds of sugar, other odds and ends. Toilet paper, Beth's lemony shampoo. And two boxes of Hostess Cupcakes.

Finally he tried joking her out of her bad mood, but it backfired on him. Beth lit into him like a rabid coon.

"I'm sorry I'm just not as highfalutin' as your sister and her boyfriend."

"Fiance," she corrected. "They are going to be married. And they ain't that way. Maggie grew up like I did. Just 'cause she lives in the city now doesn't maker her that much different. And even if it did, she's still my sister."

He shrugged. He shouldn't care what Beth thought. She was just someone he barely knew. They weren't even sleeping together. For some strange reason, he did care what she thought, more than he wanted to admit.

"You're so obvious. You were so worried they were gonna' judge you that you judged them first. Gave them a reason to not like you."

Her assimilation of him was dead on. It was a childish defense mechanism, he supposed, to hurt before he got hurt. And that philosophy had served him well throughout his life. It had served him with a drunk for a father and a volatile brother who raised him after their father died. This was different, because Beth cared for him in a way no one else had.

Looking down at his dusty old work boots, he said, "I'm sorry, Beth." Another first, he'd never told anyone he was sorry before.

Beth felt suddenly bad, he did look sorry. Something told her Daryl didn't apologize much. She was not quite ready to let him off the hook just yet, she said, "You should be sorry, acting like an inbred orangutan."

Daryl slammed the trunk of the Scout, having unloaded all their goods. He couldn't help it. He laughed, "Really? An inbred orangutan?"

Beth fought the smile that came to her lips.

"Really, I am sorry. Next time I see Maggie and Glenn I will apologize." Now he's apologizing to the girl's sister and her fiance? What the hell alternate dimension did he wander into?

Daryl was just as surprised as Beth to hear the words 'next time' come out of his mouth. Apparently he was planning on sticking around for a while. Her anger for him faded as quickly as it came.

Closing the distance between the two of them, Daryl placed his hand on her shoulder. Her anger appeared to dissipate. His relief was immense. And what the hell was that all about? This one woman being mad at him practically tore him apart. He could no longer keep his hands off her. He felt if he didn't touch her he would regret it the rest of his life. On the other hand, if he did touch her, he may also regret it the rest of his life.

"You know what my brother always told me?"

He had a brother? Beth shook her head in confusion, trying to follow him. "No. What?"

"The best way to distract a pissed off woman..."

Beth lifted her face to his, stepping closer, her eyes drifting to his mouth, then back up to his eyes...

"Is to kiss her..."


	7. Sheriff Grimes

Hi everyone! Incase you haven't already connected the dots, Phillip Blake is the Governor from TWD. And his bodyguard is Abraham.  
This chapter isn't that action packed or particularly special. I just needed a little gentleness and Bethyl fluff after the season 6 finale.  
Hope you still enjoy it. Thanks for reading!  
___

 

Actually Merle had said the best way to distract a pissed off woman was to fuck her till she shuts-up, but this was Beth. She wasn't the type of girl you played fast and loose with, He knew if he took this next step, there would be no turning back. His mind flashed to that jackass Jimmy and his blood boiled. Using her like he did… Daryl couldn't do that, wouldn't do that to Beth.

Daryl wanted Beth, he couldn't deny it. Wanted her more than he wanted to take his next breath, but what if she didn't feel the same? Her rejection would change everything, ruin everything and it would crush him.

Man up, Dixon! He heard Merle growl. Don't be such a pussy.

Looking down, he was sucked into the vortex that was Beth. Everyone and everything else faded, nothing else existed. Not the trees or the relentless sun. Not his past, not hers. Every thought of reason disappeared into the deepest recesses of his mind. Circling the back of her neck, Daryl pulled her close. Her hands slid up his solid steel forearms, up over his biceps, coming to a rest on his solid shoulders. Bending his head lower, she stood slightly on her toes...lips a breath away.

A strange buzzing came from Beth. What the...?

"Damn." Beth murmured. Her cell phone was set on vibrate, buzzing in her back pocket. Beth ignored it, but Daryl's head shot back. Spell broken, he dropped his hand from the back of her neck, making her feel chilled without his heat radiating through her skin. He took a step back away from her. Just a step, but that step may as well been the size of the Grand Canyon.

The moment was gone, reaching in her back pocket, she fumbled for her phone, looking down to the screen. Almost dropping it before she slid her finger across the screen to answer the call.

"Hello?" She said, watching Daryl as he walked backwards toward the barn. Looking at him as he looked at her, till he turned and disappeared around the corner of the house.

"Hello. I'm looking for Beth Greene. Are you her?" The male voice sounded professional with a deep southern drawl.

"Yes, this is Beth."

"Mrs. Greene. You are hard to get a hold of."

"Ms...I'm Ms. Greene." She corrected. "Or just Beth."

"Alright. I'm Sheriff Rick Grimes."

"Sheriff?" Beth's heart did a flip-flop in her chest.

"Yes." Picking up on the sudden panic in her voice, he quickly continued. "I'm calling to set up a time I can meet with you regarding a man that goes by the name Philip Blake ."

"Blake? Why is that?" As far as Beth knew, while shady, pushy and immensely stupid, he hadn't done anything illegal.

"We've gotten word that he is harassing local people up in your neck of the woods. Has this been your experience?"

Beth hesitated. Out in the backwoods of Georgia, they took care of their own. Never involving the police.

"I don't know who or what you're talkin' about." A bold faced lie, but she didn't owe this Sherriff anything.

"Really, you sounded like you knew him a second ago."

"No. I don't know him."

"Interesting. Either way I would like to come out to your place. Talk to you face to face." It was obvious he didn't believe her. It was equally obvious she didn't care.

"No. No, that won't be necessary."

"Ya' sure, now?"

"Yes."

"I'm gonna' give you my cell number, though. Just in case he comes 'round. This man is dangerous. You need to be cautious around him."

"I don't know who you're talking about. But thank ya' for your concern." Rolling her eyes at her own phoniness. Beth pretended to write down his cell number and then ended the call abruptly.

More confused, scared and worried than ever before, she did what she always did. Buried herself in her work until she was blindingly exhausted.

. . .

The weather was set to turn in the days to come, so, Daryl began work on the roof and worked from sunup till sundown, leaving their paths crossing rarely. Beth wanted so badly to tell Daryl everything. About how she felt about him. Nighttime was always be the worst, when she was alone and her mind would drift to him no matter how hard she tried to think of something else.

Since she was small, she had always hated nighttime. She hated the darkness, how it took on a different quietness than that of the day. She hated how her mind would begin to wander over the things she had done or said wrong in her life. And how she suffered a deep ache within her for a man that was well within reach, but miles away.

Presently, though, she had more to worry about at night than the normal. Things seemed to be going south at a faster rate than normal. Money was tight. More than tight; it was nonexistent. Beth knew she had to sell her cows, including Spunky, with whom she had grown attached to, to make up for the lack of money situation.

She missed her sister. Since their argument, they hadn't spoken. Maggie had called. Twice. Beth just didn't have it in her to call her back, afraid she would tell her sister everything.

The call from the Sheriff still nagged her.

The impending doom she felt waiting for Philip to come trekking out to the farm again in that ludicrous car of his.

And most of all, on those long dark nights, she thought of Daryl. He was nice enough when they did speak. That pissed her off more than anything. He treated her like he would anyone. Actually that's not accurate. He treated her with a fake pleasantry that was not at all in his character. She'd rather he yell at her, call her names, anything was better than this phoney patronization. Mostly, Beth wished he wouldn't say anything at all. She wished he would touch her again with those calloused hands, and pull her against his hard body. Sadly, wishing will get you nowhere, just as worrying got you nowhere. Still, she did both.

. . .

Whether Beth kept her distance or he did, Daryl wasn't sure. Okay, admittedly, it was him the majority of the time. The idea of her being mad at him, and rightfully so, gave him an immense case of guilt. Apparently being with Beth brought on a plethora of new experiences for him. Wanting nothing more than to make her happy was one of these new experiences. He was an asshole at lunch with her sister. She had every right to be upset with him. He'd even apologized for hell's sake. Then, he'd been able to tease out a smile. Oh, she tried to hide it, but he saw it. And, an urge came over him. A urge to be with her, in every way possible.

He'd almost had it. Was one small movement away from her lips and that damn phone rang and sent him plunging back to reality. He got caught up in the moment, that's all. What made him think this was a good idea? He wasn't the relationship type, he couldn't give Beth what she needed or deserved. He didn't want to add to the pain Jimmy had caused. Inevitably, Daryl would hurt Beth and he didn't know how he'd deal with that.

He kept his distance which seemed the safest option at the moment.

. . . 

It still hadn't rained and the dust continued to accumulate. On everything. The heat beat down relentlessly on a daily basis with no reprieve until it finally set for the day, casting glorious cool shadows on the land. As the days went on, Beth unsuccessfully tried to ignore Daryl's tanned muscular back up on her roof. She dutifully brought him food and water which he begrudgingly accepted with little more than a thank you.

Trying to find something to make for dinner that did not involve heat in any way, Beth stood at the fridge. Deciding on leftover egg salad. Reaching for the plastic container, she stopped short at the crunch of tires on the gravel driveway. Leaving the container where it was, her stomach immediately clenched.

This far out, people didn't normally just stop by. Philip had been oddly quiet since his last visit and was due out at any time. Slowly she went to the door, hoping against hope it wasn't Blake.

Hearing Daryl's muffled voice, she peered through the screen door. Daryl was standing, without his damn shirt, in the driveway talking to a stranger. As he moved to the right, she could see the man he was speaking to was wearing a tan button up shirt and well worn blue jeans. He wore a standard issue brown cowboy hat with a King County Sheriff's star on the front. If she had to guess, Daryl was talking to the one and only Sheriff Rick Grimes.

What. The. Hell.

Not only did the bold Sheriff ignore her request not to come out to the farm, here he was gabbing it up with Daryl.

Beth was out the door in a flash, letting the door slam behind her. Not planning on going out of the house again that evening after her shower she hadn't bothered to put her bra back on, only pulling on a clean tank and the jeans she wore earlier. As she practically ran to where he and the sheriff stood, judging by the color rising in her cheeks, Daryl could see she was not happy.

The fly of his jeans became uncomfortably tight. Beth's hair was damp and hanging loose, curling slightly in humid air. A tank-top barely covering her top half, showing off the bottom two inches of her smooth belly. No bra, her nipples erect and taut. Gun holstered at her waist. Barefoot, her toenails were painted pink. He was surprised by this. If her cowboy boots turned him on, well then those painted toenails tipped him over the edge.

There was the look in her eyes that said she would kill Daryl with her bare hands if it weren't for the Sheriff being present. Yes, she was ideal to him. The perfect mixture of gunpowder and lace. Daryl couldn't help but smirk at her. Which, of course, pissed her off all the more.

"Beth, this is Sheriff Grimes. He came out here to talk to ya'."

"And I already told him he shouldn't bother."

"Now, Ms. Greene..." The sheriff spoke smoothly, with a deep calm voice.

"Beth!" She corrected, a little louder than intended.

The Sheriff held up his palms in defense, grinning. "Beth." He amended. "I've been meaning to come out here anyway. Say hello. Let the people know that just because you live way out here, you are still a priority to our department."

"You runnin' for president or somethin'? Listen, I don't need your help." She wanted desperately to be rid of the Sheriff before he brought up Philip in front of Daryl. Daryl still didn't know who or what Phillip's business was that day and she prefered to keep it that way.

Rick eyed Beth from head to toe. Not in a man leering at a woman kind of way, but in a cop way. Measuring her up, seeing who he was dealing with. His eyes narrowing in on the gun at her hip.

"You got a permit to carry that gun?" he asked.

"Yep." She did, in fact.

"Felony Firearms charge is a mandatory two year sentence."

"Good to know." She crossed her arms over her chest. Dug her bare heels in the dirt.

"Listen Ms..." he began, then quickly called her by her first name. "Beth. I'm not the enemy here."

"Funny. Doesn't look that way to me. You come out here, unannounced. Unwanted. Unneeded." Damn, she hated being a bitch, but sometimes a woman had no choice.

"Beth." Daryl spoke softly, touching her on the elbow, which she quickly snatched away.

"I got this Daryl. Don't you got some work to do?" Beth inwardly cringed at the lack of kindness in her voice. She had to be clear. He had to understand that this was not his concern.

Knowing when he was dismissed, he nodded and said "Sheriff." Climbing the ladder, retreating back to the roof.

"Why don't you want your man to know about Phillip?" Rick questioned once Daryl was out of earshot.

Beth's eyes softened marginally. The Sheriff was astute, she would give him that. She didn't want Daryl to know just how dangerous Phillip was; she didn't need to be taken care of.

"He's not my 'man'."

"Yeah, because platonic friends look at each other the way you two do."

Beth opened her mouth in rebuttal but closed it tightly shut, grinding her back molars until she felt pain.

"But I'm no relationship counselor. My wife and I...well anyway." He took off his hat and wiped his brow with his forearm. "Listen, Philip Blake is not a good person. To put it simply, he's been involved in illegal business practices for years. Anythin' to make hisself richer. Now, he's advanced into brutality. We think he attacked your neighbor, Dale Horvath. You know him well?" He asked, and when she shook her head no, which was a lie, he continued. "He lives a couple blocks over. I find it hard to believe you don't know him. He's lived here, on that property, 'bout as long as your family has."

Externally, Beth shrugged her shoulders. She had nothing to prove to this guy. Internally, however, she screamed with pent up anger. Phillip must be pretty desperate, beating up on an old men. Silently she prayed Dale was alright.

"Beat him up pretty badly. Took a bit of persuasion to get it out of Horvath, but he finally admitted Blake's been harassing him for months. Trying to get him to sell his land and when Horvath wouldn't give in to his scare tactics, Philip became violent."

Damn it all to hell! "I highly doubt Blake laid a finger on him, wouldn't want to mess up his manicure or get blood on his fancy clothes. He had a hired thug moron to do the dirty work."

"Thought you didn't know him?"

"We both know that's bullshit." Indigent, Beth ran her hands through her hair pushing it off her face. "He comes sniffin' 'round her couple times a month. I can handle myself, though. Don't need you stickin' your nose in where it don't belong."

The Sheriff eyed her suspiciously. "Dale thought that too."

True enough, Dale was older, but smart.

"So you say he has another man with him?" The Sheriff questioned.

Shit, this is exactly what she didn't want. The Sheriff asking questions. By way of answer she nodded her head in the affirmative.

"Got a description?"

Sighing her annoyance, she answered, "Big. Tall. Red hair. Mustache."

"Well. That's really helpful." Two could play the game of sarcasm apparently.

His eyes focused on her gun again. "You know how to use that thing?" He asked, nodding to the Glock.

"Well, it ain't a fashion accessory."

"It's a mighty fine piece." He complimented.

Beth began to lose some of the anger she had, softening a bit. "Dale gonna' to be okay?"

"Yeah, after he gets outta' the hospital in four to six weeks."

Beth trembled involuntarily.

"Listen, I'm not trying to invade on your privacy. I need you to call me if Blake comes back out here. Do not confront him. Don't even go outside."

Beth hadn't planned on it. She prided herself on being tough, not stupid.

The Sheriff rounded the hood of his Bronco, opened the driver's side door and before he jumped up into the seat, he said "Suppose to have some inclement weather coming up in the next day or two. Stay safe."

"We'll be sure to send out for Mukluks and whale blubber."

He smiled at her joke, and Beth decided it wasn't such a bad smile...for a cop. She watched as he backed out of her driveway and onto the gravel road.

Turning back to the house, shading her eyes against the blinding sun, finding Daryl's silhouetted form on the roof. She knew what she had to do next and she really didn't want to do it. Eating crow was not one of her favorite meals.

No sense complaining when you got a job to do, taking a breath Beth climbed the ladder, peeking her head over the roof. She pulled herself up over the edge, hesitating. Looking down at just how far off the ground she was.

"The invincible Beth Greene is afraid of somethin'?" Daryl asked. She thought he was busy working, wasn't even looking up. As always, though, he was watching and saw her hesitation.

Crawling on all fours to where Daryl sat, seemingly effortlessly, on his haunches. "I ain't scared. I just don't like heights." She said, her voice wavering slightly, not convincing either one of them.

He belched out a laugh.

"I'm sorry Daryl. I.." she tried to come up with reasons why she was sorry, but they all sounded a little too much like excuses. "I'm just sorry."

He nodded, continuing to work. From their perch on the roof she could see for miles and miles. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Pride shimmied up her backbone. This was her home. This house and land always gave her what she needed. Whether it was food, or sleep. Shelter or wings. This house was a cure for all the wearied her.

This home felt more complete when Daryl, the man nonchalantly hammering nails, became a part of it. But, how could that be? She didn't even know his middle name. Beth found out recently he had a brother. How could she feel so strongly toward someone she didn't know.

On the other hand, she knew everything about Jimmy. Knew his parents, knew his siblings. Even knew his great granddaddy. Knew what his favorite food, color, football team. Even knew if he prefered Chevy or Ford. A hell of a lot of good that did her.

"Wanna go for a walk?" Throwing her completely off guard, again, she asked him to repeat himself.

"A walk."

"I said I was sorry."

"And I asked you to go for a walk."

"Well now that we are all up to date," she sassed.

"I'm almost finished up here. Mid-afternoon sun gets pretty hot up on this roof, even with the shade of the trees."

"Umm, sure."

They climbed off the roof and Daryl, regrettably, put his shirt back on as they set off on foot along the trail leading out back. Echo walked with them as they talked occasionally. Falling into a comfortable quietness. Beth noticed Daryl keeping her an arms length away, never getting too close. Or, too far away. The sweet scent tobacco coursed through the air, mixing with grass and dirt.

When they came to a fork, one way leading to the river, the other leading to the right, to a pocket of property that belonged to someone else. Daryl took the path to the right. Without question she followed him.

Finally taking notice to her surroundings Beth abruptly stopped, Echo looking up at her quizzically. "Where are we?" She thought she knew every inch of these woods.

Daryl, not speaking only pointed. Following the direction of his finger, Beth looked through the trees, noticing nothing significant at first. Then a building began to appear through the dense thicket of trees and brush.

"Is that a house?"

"Uh huh. Kinda'," he answered, tromping through the overgrowth to the cement stairs that sunk into the dark earth.

"I woulda' never saw this." Beth said, flabbergasted. The house, if you could call it that, wasn't more than a one room shack, a crumbling mess of rubble and falling walls. Looking over to Daryl, she felt his mood plummet.

"This was my daddy's place."

Shocked, Beth asked. "What? How can that be? I know everyone out here."

"Well, no one was supposed to know about it. It as a hunting shack. I don't think he did much hunting when he was up here though."

"Did you spend much time here."

He nodded, " Some."

To know Daryl was so close to her, for many years apparently, gave her mixed feelings.

"After my daddy died, I never came here. Merle, my brother, did occasionally." When he spoke those words he looked down at her standing by his side. She knew there was more, so much more, and he looked as though he wanted to tell her, but didn't. Without even thinking, her hand instinctively went to his. Her fingers intertwining with his, his thumb rubbing the pad of skin between her thumb and pointer finger.

Daryl stood still, feet firmly planted on sunken concrete, looking in at his past. She knew a million thoughts were running through that mind of his, but he had no idea how to vocalize what he felt.

"Where's your brother now?" He said his father was dead, no mention of his mother, only a brother, Merle. All she had left was Maggie, and even though they fought, she couldn't imagine her life without her.

Daryl shrugged. "He comes and goes. Hell, I come and go, too. Not sure where he's at now."

Beth ached for him. His only family left, that she knew of and he had no idea where he was or how to contact him.

"He's an asshole, but he's my brother. Ya' know?" His voice raw, his throat hoarse. He had no way of knowing coming here would bring up the reaction of emotions it did. He felt homesick for his childhood before it all went to shit. He missed his brother, even his father, who was not worth missing. He still missed him.

"What about your Mama? She 'round?" Beth felt helpless. All she could do is hold his hand.

With his free hand, he took off his hat by the bill and ran his fingers through his hair. "She took off when I was about seven."

Beth couldn't imagine it. "I'm so sorry."

He finally looked to her again, "What for?"

"I don't know how to find your family. But I would...if I could." It seemed so little, so insignificant, but it was all she had to offer.

"Why? Why would you wanna' help me find my mother? My no good brother, someone you never even met."

"Because I want to help you. And they are obviously more than 'no good' to you. They're your family. They're a part of you."

Placing his hat back on his head, pulling it down low. "For the life of me, I can't figure out why you're being so nice to me."

"Well..I was kinda' a bitch to you earlier." She joked, smiling at him. "It's only right I be nice to you now," bumping her elbow against his.

"Oh yeah?" He asked, a slow smile coming to his face. That uneasy longing made it hard to breath again. His feelings for Beth were deeper than he cared to admit. He had no idea what to do about it. Well, that wasn't true. He knew what he wanted to do about it, but this was different. Beth was different. That made him different, making this uncharted territory.

 


	8. Rain is a Good Thing

Beth didn't know what to make of Daryl showing that little bit of his life with her. Or why he chose to do so. She had asked him why:

_"Why did you bring me here?" Standing side by side in the busted out door way of the rundown, one room shack. The sun was beginning to set, casting a yellow filter through the one broken window. Their shadows stretching longley through the center of the room._

_He rolled his shoulders. "I dunno'. Felt like the right thing to do._ "

And that summed up Daryl as she knew him. Simple, yet complex. It felt like the right thing to do, so he did it. Simple as that. Why did it feel like the right thing? That was a bit more complex because he couldn't vocalize why. And she didn't press.

Going over the afternoon in her mind over and over again. Over analyzing things in her Virgo way, until she was absolutely exhausted and no closer to figuring things out.

They fell back into their routine, Daryl was no longer avoiding her and Beth was doing her best to not act like the dragon queen when she was in his presence. For her recent actions, playing hot and cold with him, wanting him one minute then pushing him away the next, she decided to a peace offering, of sorts, was in order.

Lasagna from scratch!

Beth enjoyed cooking. For the most part. When she was very young, she remembered fattening, yummy Sunday meals after church consisting of fried chicken and coleslaw. Or pot roast in the cooler months. Or whatever her mother made. Her mother would slave over the stove for what felt like, in her youngster eyes, ages. The reward was some of the best meals she'd ever had.

As time went on, and things dissipated in their little family unit, those meals became less and less. Replaced by whatever they threw together themselves at the different times they all made it home throughout the day.

Today, though, the kitchen saw more action than it had a good long while. And it showed. By the time she was finished, the kitchen was a disaster. Having used just about every bowl she owned, the sink overflowed. Her cast iron pots, needing to be scrubbed, took up the burners on the stove. The lasagna was finally finished though, and it looked wonderful as she slid it into the oven.

Blowing her bangs out of her face, she started the sink, pouring dish soap as it filled. This was more exhausting than a full days work.

By the time everything was cleaned up, the lasagna had twenty minutes to go. Just enough time to get a quick shower and change her clothes that were stained red from an incident with bubbling, splashing sauce.

The cool water from the shower rejuvenated her. Brushing out her hair, she stood with the towel wrapped around her in front of the bedroom mirror. She studied herself, something she rarely did. Normally she showered, hardly running a comb through her hair and threw on clothes. Staring at her reflection now, she noticed she was a little too skinny, her legs a little too string bean-ish. Her hair was in desperate need of a trim. An actual trim, not just her standing in front of the mirror with a pair of dull scissors. Her cheeks were reddened from the sun. And was that the beginnings of crow's feet? She made a mental note to pick up some of that wrinkle cream she spotted at the drugstore last time she was there.

Sighing, she set the brush down and opened her dresser drawer, retrieving a bra and pair of panties that were older than she cared to admit. Beth just wasn't a fussy girl, never had been. Jimmy's wicked condescending laugh echoed in her head. _"Who you trying to impress?"_ Anytime she tried to dress up for different occasions throughout the years, he would degrade her. Maggie's graduation from college, her own graduation from high school. Her father's funeral. _"You're just a little country girl barn-hand. No reason for you to even try to look nice."_ Then he would try to make everything okay by kissing her on the top of the head, saying _"But you're my little hick."_

It was true, she preferred her boots and jeans, but sometimes...

Looking over her clothes folded in the dresser drawers, she pulled out one of her many warn t-shirts. It didn't seem right. Going to the closet instead, she pulled out what some people would call a dress. White and flowing, an extra long peasant shirt in actuality, but too short for her to feel comfortable wearing as a dress. Slipping it over her head, she went back to the mirror examining the girl in the reflection. Wondering when's the last time someone had made her want to look nice.

The dress/shirt looked all wrong on her. Out of place. Why did she put it on anyway? Feeling stupid and self conscious, she began to pull it over her head. Stopping herself, she said aloud, "Beth, quit being indecisive. Daryl doesn't care what you wear. Won't even notice. Leave the damn dress on."

And so she did, pairing it with a pair of dark jeans that flared out into a bootcut. Now, she eyed her make up, what little she did own. Daryl seemed perplexed when she wore it to town that day. Well, he had teased her about it, but in that boy teasing a girl he thinks is cute kind of way. He didn't tease her in the mean way Jimmy did. Daryl's teasing was actually adorable, if a man such as Daryl could be considered adorable.

"What the hell?" She asked herself, and ran the mascara wand through her blonde eyelashes, darkening them to visible.

Taking one last look in the mirror, she decided she cleaned up well. Rolling her eyes at herself, for someone that professed to not care what anyone thought, Beth sure seemed to care what Daryl thought.

By the time she was back downstairs, the timer was going off and the kitchen smelled heavenly. Just as Daryl walked through the door, she was pulling the Lasagna out of the oven.

"What smells so g…" he began, stopping short when he saw Beth standing by the oven, casserole dish in hand.

"Dinner's ready, dear," she crooned in her best Stepford Wife impression. Giggling as Daryl continued to stare, his hand still on the screen door holding it open. She went to the table and placed the dish on a matt in the center of the table.

"Hungry?" She asked as Daryl continued to stare.

He nodded his head, his eyes going from the top of her head, down to her bare feet. "You look…" his words trailed off and Beth began to second guess her choice of wardrobe. Biting her lip, her face fell.

Seeing her crestfallen face, Daryl came to his senses. Closing the door he went to her, brushing a hand over the softness of her hair. "You look beautiful." Another first, never had he told a woman she was beautiful.

His words were cathartic to her damaged soul. Had anyone, other than her father, told her she was beautiful before? Emotion clogged her throat.

Moving his hand from her hair to her cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin. It would be so easy. Just lean down and put his lips to hers. Instead, he reached out for her chair, pulling it out from the table for her. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

. . .

That night, after dinner, her mind drifted to him as usual. The way his hand felt cool on her heated skin, the way he touched her hair, pulled her chair out for her. Served her the first helping of lasagna.

Dinner had felt very much like a first date neither had experienced before. She supposed her and Jimmy had had a first date, but that was a long time ago, and Daryl never allowed anyone to get close enough to even have a first date.

When he left long after dinner, after lingering at the table, helping Beth do dishes, she did not want him to leave. What's more, Daryl seemed reluctant to leave too. She stood at the door holding it open with her back. He slid past her, turning to face her once he was past the threshold. His face downturned, looking up at her out of the tops of his eyes. "Ah, thanks for dinner. It was really good. Best meal I think I ever had."

Smiling, her face lit up the darkened porch, "Really?"

"Oh yeah."

"Keep that up, you'll get some for lunch tomorrow." Realizing her accidental play on words, she quickly amended' "Lasagna, I mean. You can have some for lunch."

That made him chuckle, and before turning to leave, he placed a chaste kiss to her cheek, then went back to the barn and his lonely cot.

With the early morning light, dinner seemed less dream-like. More like just a good meal between two friends. Nothing more.

Or rather, Beth tried to convince herself of this as she worked in the barn. Finally giving in, she leaned on the stall banister. Putting her chin in her hands, somewhat defeated.

"Oh, why am I trying to kid myself?" she spoke to the baby cow who was napping in his stall. "I'm a goner."

She thought of Daryl all the time, like some sort of boy-crazy school girl. Whenever he sauntered her way, or worked on the roof or in the barn without his shirt. Brushed up by her, or the way he took his hat off when he sat down to eat at the table. When he would look at her with such potent manly force, her stomach would do flip flops. Just thinking of him now, her face flushed embarrassingly. The flush had nothing to do with the dry heat of the day.

Fixing her face in only what could be called a pout, she brooded. "But now what can I do about it?" She asked the still sleeping calf. Short of throwing herself at him, Beth was clueless what to do.

The trip-trap of raindrops sounded on the roof distracted her. "What is that?" She asked. "It can't be.."

. . .

Daryl's mind was also driven to distraction, more so than normal, by Beth. Doing construction work and his level of distraction wasn't a good combination; his thumb would attest to that. He'd lost count of how many times he'd bashed it with the hammer, as his mind wandered to Beth.

Something was different in Beth, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what. She dressed up a little, wore that mascara goop. Made a hell of a dinner. All seemingly for him. The thought made him terribly uncomfortable. And, incredibly turned on at the same time.

Daryl had finished the roof job up just before the skies opened up and let down a flood of torrential rain. He gathered what tools he still had left on the roof and shimmied down the ladder just as Beth came out of the barn. The rain picking up force by the second. Thunder rumbled in the distance, the trees beginning to sway in the wind.

"Isn't it amazin'?" She yelled, lifting her face up to the sky, eyes closed, mouth upturned in a smile.

"Girl, you're crazy." Her excitement was contagious. It hadn't rained this much in months. He turned his face up, the rain pelleting his hot sunburned skin. Beth spun around, her ever present Echo bellowing at her feet, enjoying the rain as well.

Daryl watched her as she enjoyed the rain. Childlike, spinning around with her arms out. He had always been serious, baring a smartass comment or randy joke. He had never been carefree or childlike, even when he was a child. His life, always hard, hadn't left much room for that. Beth made him feel...happy. Lighthearted, excited about the future. His future with her. She made him want to do more than just exist from day to day. He suddenly realized he wanted to do more than just survive.

Unable to stand the space between them any longer, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her close to him.

"What are you doin'?" She asked playfully.

He continued to stare intently at her, the childlike look leaving her face.

She whispered, "Oh." Understanding the seriousness of his expression.

Finally, she thought to herself, finally this is going to happen. Testing his resolve, she placed her hands on his chest. Eyes becoming wide and serious.

Daryl placed his hand on the side of face, dragging his fingers through her hair, gently pulling it, resting his brow on hers. He fisted the back of her t-shirt with his free hand.

Daryl regretted a lot in his life, did many things he shouldn't have done. Said things he shouldn't have said. Standing there, as the rain fell around them, those things didn't matter. His past. Who he used to be. None of that mattered any longer. Beth had given him a second chance at life. A chance to do things right. Doing things right didn't seem so unattainable if you were with the right person. And he knew that Beth was that right person.

Beth shivered with anticipation. Allowing him to lead the way, to take her to the next step; she slid her hands up, cupping his face, feeling the heat and stubble in her hands. Finally Beth could no longer take the suspense and asked, "Daryl, are you ever gonna' kiss me?"

"I want to." He answered honestly.

"Then do it."

Sometimes there is no next time, no timeout to think things through. There is just here and now. Just Daryl and Beth.

But, what if..,

He began to pull back, creating a tiny space between them.

No, this was not how this was going to end, Beth decided. She was nothing if not stubborn, and she wanted to kiss Daryl. To feel his lips against hers, to feel his hands on her body. She wanted it all, and with him.

Now.

Reaching out, clutching the front of his shirt with her fist, she pulled him back to her, their bodies colliding. She paused, her lips a heartbeat from his, taking the moment in. A look of stunned silence on Daryl's face, before crushing her lips to his.

Daryl felt the shock of the kiss shoot through his body like a rocket. The reaction shocking him, he pulled back. Then with a rasped curse, he cupped her head between his hands and claimed her mouth with unapologetic roughness. The buildup to this moment was immense because he'd been thinking of doing this, and more, since the moment he first saw her on the bridge weeks ago.

Beth didn't shy away from the gruffness of his kiss, giving it right back to him in full. With heat and hunger, her fingers moving from his chest, to his shoulders and up into his wet hair, tugging. Her unrestraint was a surprise to both of them.

Their mouths feasted on each other until Beth pulled back, breathing heavily. Shivering from the mix of rain and electricity. She reached out, touching his lips, following their shape with the tip of her index finger, giving him goosebumps.

Taking that hand, he placed a wet kiss in the middle of her palm, effectively melting her to puddle on the ground along with the rainwater. She didn't care what was proper at that point, or what she should or shouldn't do. She knew in her heart what she wanted, so she shut off the shouts of warning her mind was yelling and listened, instead, solely to her heart.

"Daryl...I want you."

His eyes grew round with surprise, as much at her bluntness as her wanting him. He took both her hands in his, pulling her to the house, quickly before either of them could change their minds. Daryl knew, though, that he wouldn't change his mind. This was what he wanted. This was his fantasy come true. The beautiful, strong, independent woman of his dreams wanted him. Daryl wondered how he got some damn lucky.

Laughing, being pulled along to the house, Daryl stopped short, Beth almost running into the back of him. Jimmy's Prius pulled down the driveway, windshield wipers flipping back and forth frantically as he pulled up next to Beth's Scout.

And Daryl's heart dropped before it was engulfed in anger.

"Shit," muttered Beth.

Daryl couldn't agree more. "Some timing he has."

Beth was drenched, clothes clinging to her body, hair dripping. She climbed begrudgingly up the porch steps, waiting for Jimmy to exit his car, and make his way up the steps too.

Not even giving him a chance, she spat, "I told you to never come back here again,"

"I know," Jimmy said meekly. Ignoring Daryl standing on the grass, oblivious to the rain.

"Then are you just hard of hearing or extremely stupid."

"I'm guessing the later." Daryl intoned.

"Shut the fuck up, man. This has nothin' to do with you." Jimmy yelled at Daryl over his shoulder.

Daryl rose an eyebrow and took one step toward him, making Jimmy backtrack. "This don't have anything to do with you, is all I mean. This is about me and Beth."

Jimmy was muscular in a jock kind of way. Daryl was lean and wiry; more accustomed to solving his problems with his fists. He shoved his hands into his pockets, because they itched to meet Jimmy's pretty face.

"I just need to talk to you Beth."

"No. Leave now." She said simply enough.

"This hasn't got anything to do with Philip and the farm." He promised.

"Right." Beth didn't believe him, and made no qualms about it.

"Jesus, Beth. Don't you know what day it is?"

Thrown off by his question, she tried to remember the date. Sometimes days slipped by on the farm.

"It's the 25th." Jimmy filled in for her.

Clueless Daryl watched Beth as the color that their kiss had added to her face drained, going from angry to crestfallen to heartbroken. She seemed to weaken before his eyes.

"Whether this is between you and Beth, or you and the man in the moon, I think you need to leave."

As though she didn't hear Daryl, she demanded to know, "is that really why did you come here? You expect me to believe you care or cared at all about her? Ever?"

Her? Daryl had no idea who she was speaking about.

"That's not fair. I cared." Jimmy sounded less than convincing.

"You came out here to just hurt me for not selling. Is that it?" With every word Beth became more enraged. Her voice taking a high agonizing pitch. She didn't know who she was more angry at. Jimmy or herself for forgetting this date of all days.

"Beth, come on. Let's go inside. Talk." Jimmy took a step to her, grabbing her by the elbow. Beth looked lost. Stuck between her past and her future.

Daryl could take no more, and taking the steps in one jump, he had Jimmy pinned up against the exterior wall, his forearm pushing against his windpipe. Jimmy gasping for air.

"Listen here, you…"

"Daryl, let him go." Beth spoke through clenched teeth, pulling at his arm. Not because she wanted to protect Jimmy, but because she didn't want Jimmy's blood on her hands.

All Daryl could hear was his blood rushing through his veins in a blind rage. "You son of a bitch. You leave now of your own free will…"

"Daryl! I said stop it!" Beth yelled.

"...or you leave in a body bag."

"Damn it!"

"The choice is yours, fucker."

Speaking through gasps of breath, Jimmy hissed, "Get the...fuck off... me. Damn...redneck hick."

Somehow, Jimmy managed to wriggled out of Daryl's grasp and sent a blow with his right fist to the side of Daryl's face. Barely flinching, he plunged his fist into Jimmy's stomach, doubling him over in pain. Taking advantage of his distraction, Daryl shoved his knee into Jimmy's face, hearing the satisfying crunch of bone on bone. Jimmy teetered over, screaming out, blood gushing from his nose.

"Mother fucker!" Jimmy screeched.

Daryl grabbed him up by a fistful of hair, punching him with his fist. He could no longer think logically, all he saw blind rage towards this prick that caused Beth pain. In return he wanted to inflict as much suffering on Jimmy as he could. Punching him over and over. Again and again.

Unexpectedly a shot rang through the air, hitting the porch floor an inch from where Daryl and Jimmy fought. Beth finally gained Daryl's attention, stopping him mid swing.

"Back away from him, Daryl." Breathing heavily, he backed off Jimmy who promptly fell to his knees. One thing Daryl's daddy did teach him was when a woman was pointing her gun at you, you did what you were told.

Turning the Glock on Jimmy, surprisingly calm, she said, "Get outta here, Jimmy. You set foot on my property again and I will shoot you. That's a promise."

"Crazy bitch."

Jimmy stumbled to his feet, one hand clutching his nose, blood pouring through his fingers. Face swollen and red. He fell down the stairs, then gripping the railing, pulled himself up, staggering to his car.

Daryl watched him leave, wishing he felt satisfied, like he had the other times in his life when he had beat the shit out of a worthless weasel. Now though, he only felt drained. Sorry for the situation having to come to blows. Daryl felt someone had to teach that jerkwad a lesson.

Daryl swung back around to where Beth stood, looking around the porch, she was no longer there. Yanking the screen door open he called her name. Nothing. Outside, he yelled her name but his words were swallowed up by the rain.

She was just gone.

He jumped off the deck, running to the barn in just enough time to see Beth, mounted bareback on Lakota, taking off through the woods. A blonde and brown streak flying through the forest.

"Beth!" he yelled helplessly. She was long gone in two seconds flat. Still Daryl took off running after her. Yelling her name. He followed the path, raining pelting his face, branches and leaves scraping at him. Finally he had to slow up a little, his heart banging against his rib cage and his lungs burning. She was no where.

He walked for what felt like hours, he was tired, cold and wet. The rain had yet to lighten up. Thinking it was best to wait her out at the house, she would return at shome point. He began walking back to the house. Turning at a bend in the path, Lakota came into his view. Standing in the rain, looking about as pissed off as a horse could.

Then, through the wrought iron fencing of the family cemetery, he saw her. Beth was sitting on the ground cross-legged, elbows propped on her knees and her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shaking with sobs that were muffled by her hands.

Slowly, he walked through the gate entrance and lowered himself down onto the wet ground, sitting behind her. She instinctively leaned back against him. No words were needed, she just knew he was there. There for her.

In front of them stood a orange and grey marbled rock, a grave marker with no name or dates. A small tree, with tiny pink flowers, was planted just behind the rock. Its green leaves and flowers vibrant in color from the magnification of raindrops.

Feeling her continuous shivering, he said, "Beth, let's go back to the house. You're gonna' catch ya' death out in this rain." He wrapped his arms tightly around her.

He thought maybe she couldn't or didn't want to hear him, but then she spoke, voice so broken it actually physically hurt him. "This is where I buried my daughter."

Daryl almost asked her to repeat herself. The idea of making her say those words a second time seemed mean. Besides, he knew he heard her correctly.

She had a daughter?

"Beth," he spoke with compassion, he held her closer, trying to rub some of the warmth back into her. At a loss for what to say, knowing anything he said wouldn't be enough. Nothing he could say or do would ever lessen her pain.

She slumped against him then, all the energy and anger and excitement she felt throughout the day, seemed to drain out of her, leaving her an empty shell.

Her voice sounding hollow as she spoke. "Jimmy and I got married 'cause I was pregnant. We, were happy, excited. Or at least I was. I had a normal pregnancy. Went into labor but the baby was under distress. She died shortly after birth of and undetected heart defect."

Daryl's heart shattered, devastated for Beth.

"Just one of those things, the doctor said. No real explanation. And Jimmy,," she laughed humorously at his name. "He seemed relieved. Didn't understand why I couldn't just get over it."

"Just get over it?" Daryl didn't have kids. He had no idea how someone could just get over something so horrible. In the back of his mind, he wished he would of done more damage to Jimmy.

"After, the only place I wanted to be was home. Here. My daddy was still alive then and he told me to come home where I belonged. He understood me so well, but to my own husband I was a mystery. He had no idea why I would ever want to come back here. At that point, it didn't matter to me what Jimmy thought, so I brought her back here. To the only place I've ever felt like my true self. I buried my daugher here. Then went back to the city, to Jimmy and things disintegrated from there. Then daddy died and I knew I had to come back here. I regretted not doing it sooner."

No wonder it was so important for Beth to keep this land. If for some reason she did have to sell, by force or by choice, it would kill her to leave her daughter's last resting place. Daryl made a vow to never let that happen, having no idea how he would keep this vow, he just knew he would.

"I forgot what day it was. How could I forget? What kind of mother forgets the day her baby died?"

"Beth don't. Don't do that to yourself. You didn't forget, you just lost track of the days." Daryl's words fell on deaf ears.

"How could I?" She repeated, bending at the waste so completely her forehead almost touched the ground. A primal growl came from somewhere deep down inside. Daryl adjusted his stance, kneeling in front of Beth. Putting both hands on her, willing her to lift her face to look into his. She did slowly. The anguish in her eyes tore at him.

"Beth you didn't forget, you just weren't aware of what day it was. That happens a lot up living out here. Out here, we don't live by a calendar. We live by the season. Don't do this to yourself," he implored. "Don't let Jimmy get to you that way. I promise you, you would of been a great mother to your little girl. You will be a great mom someday. Don't let Jimmy take that away from you."

As his words sunk in, tears mixed with rain fell down her face. "I love you Daryl." The words set him back on his heels, sure she said it by mistake. In the confusion and the cold she spoke the wrong words.

But, she said it again, looking straight at him with earnest blue eyes, "I love you Daryl." She probably could've picked a better time to tell him, she supposed. It just came out, and she felt better for saying it. Feeling compelled by something she didn't understand, Beth needed to say the words right then with such desperation she felt she would never be able to say it again if she didn't say it now. Beth didn't want him to say the words back. If he did so now, she would always wonder if it was because of the circumstances rather than the way he actually felt about her.

Saying it back seemed cliche. So instead he kissed her on the mouth, then her cheek, tasting her salty tears and the cold rain. Standing, he took her by her hand, pulling her up.

"Come on, let's go home."

Standing when he pulled her to her feet, her tears suddenly dried up and the coldness from the rain seeped into her consciousness, she may of been shaking uncontrollably this whole time but she became suddenly very aware of her teeth clattering, her whole body shivering.

With Daryl's help she was able to mount Lakota's bareback, jumping on behind her, putting his arms around her, grabbing hold of the old mare's mane, he directed Lakota back onto the trail. Beth leaned back against Daryl's solid strength.

When they got back to the house and put Lakota in the barn the rain was coming down harder than before. They were soaked clear through, dripping a puddle on the wood floor of the house. Beth made her way to the downstairs bathroom, exhaustion surrounding her, making each step seemingly impossible. She pulled her wet clothes over her head, dropping them to the floor with a slapping sound on the tile. Wrapping a towel around her naked body she went to where Daryl kneeled at the fireplace in the living room, starting a fire.

"Daryl," she said, standing behind him.

"Yeah?"

"Come here," Beth directed.

He stood, turning toward her, "I'm here." He gathered her in his arms, pulling her still shaking body close to him.

"No. Here." She said, untangling herself from him, pulling him to the bathroom.

"What, why?"

"We better get you outta these wet clothes," smiling a smile that didn't quite reach her exhausted eyes.

"Beth, no. We can't. I would feel like I'm takin' advantage."

"This is where we were heading before everything happened."

True enough, still he would never want her to feel like he took to her bed when she wasn't ready. They were headed this way, but life, like it often does, threw a curveball.

"Don't worry, Dixon. Your virtue is safe with me," Beth teased. A weight began to lift off her body. Telling Daryl what had happened all those years ago freed her of a burden. The death of her daughter was something she would always carry with her. It didn't mean she didn't deserve happiness in her life.

Taking a deep breath he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to accompany Beth's clothes that lay in a pile on the bathroom floor. Beth reached over, turning the faucet and shower on to hot. Looking at Daryl's worried face she dropped her towel. He dutifully kept his eyes on hers.

"Are you sure?" He asked again.

"More 'an anything." Since the day she met him, she felt a strong unexplainable pull towards him. She didn't believe in destiny, but she knew they were meant for something more. Something great. Something better than either of them had experienced in the past.

Beth stepped under the hot spray of water and, feeling the heat seep into her skin, curled her finger to Daryl. What was he waiting for…

Daryl had no idea why he was hesitating. A woman who claimed to love him was standing before him, naked, under the stream of hot steaming water. And the clincher was she wanted him to join her. He admitted, only to himself, this was the woman he loved. Last year if someone would've told him he would be in this situation he would of laughed at them, maybe even punched them. Yet, here he was…

He unbuckled his belt buckle and dropped his pants and boxers, then stepped into the shower with Beth, allowing himself to look at her in the dimmed light of the afternoon clouds. Her eyes, large, beautiful and sure. Her tight, lean, body, slicked with water. Her hair slicked back from her face.

Beth splayed her hands over his chest, up over his broad shoulders, into his hair.

"Can i tell you somethin'?"

"Sure," she said, placing wet kisses along his collarbone.

"I've fantasized 'bout doing this with you."

She met his gaze, "Oh yeah?"

By way of answer he groaned as her hand trailed down his stomach.

"What else have you fantasized about doin' with me?"

"Let me show you." The gruffness of his voice was sexy as the feathering motion of her fingertips, trailing over his low stomach. Beth rubbed against him seductively, each movement sweet as a Georgia peach. The motions slow, yet breath stealing. His hands became more impatient as they drifted over her body, the callouses scraping slightly, emitting goosebumps, down over her hip, then back up to her breast. He lowered his mouth to her, teasing her nipple to hardened point with his tongue and teeth, shooting tiny thrills of irrotic pain throughout her.

His name escaped her mouth in quiet desperation. Cupping her bottom he lifted her; pressing his middle to the ache between her thighs. "I want you, but not up against the bathroom wall. I want you for the first time in bed where I can have access to all of you."

She pulled herself free, turned to shut off the water and grabbed a towel for him, then took her discarded towel off the floor. Drying themselves quickly before he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him again, feasting on her ear with his teeth. Beth pushed away, grabbing his hand, she pulled him through the house, up the stairs, into her bedroom, where she stood before him, in all her naked glory. He had honestly never wanted anyone more than her.

Daryl laid Beth down onto her messed bed, she never bothered to make. Daryl didn't seem to mind the messy bed covers, though. He crushed his mouth to hers and she wrapped her arms and legs around him. The sudden sharp demand of his body pushed all the worries out of her mind. Knowing he would expect no more than what she had, so she gave her all to him.

His tongue tangling hotly with hers sending an impassioned ache that traveled down to the throb between her thighs. She moved under him, arched her hips, he had to tear his mouth from hers, and press it to her throat to keep himself from rushing too far, too fast. He could still smell the rain on her skin; ingratiatingly beautiful.

Beth was undoing him, step by step. It took only her moan to drive him crazy.

There was an excitement she had never experienced before in not being able to quite catch her breath. She ran her hands over his shoulders, running her nails down his back, his muscles quivering. The grey light coming through the window made her sun streaked hair halo around her head, her complexion of porcelain touched with rose. The sunshine to Daryl's darkness.

His hands slid from where they were fisted in her hair, to her breasts, kneading them with his rough hands. He made small sounds of arousal and gratification as her nippples turned hard and rosy for him. He bent his head to them and using his mouth, kissing them quickly with his tongue, then sucking firmly.

Beth couldn't hold out any longer and moaned, "Daryl, don't make me beg." Reaching down in between them, she took hold of him, stroking his long width with her hand. "Don't you want me?" Silly question, it was obvious he did.

"More than anything." And Beth released him, and he plunged into her, filling her with slow deliberate strokes. Helpless, she matched his pace, her breath hitching when she, finally unable to take it any longer, quickened the tempo. His mouth came down onto hers and she could do nothing but surrender to it. When their bodies spun finally and completely out of control, she could do nothing but let herself go and he could do nothing but follow her lead.

Exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the day Beth dozed, feeling the gloriousness of being loved well into submission, she let sleep surround her. When Daryl's voice reached into her subconsciousness, she slowly opened her heavy lidded eyes, blinking to bring him into focus. "What?"

"What did you name your daughter"? He repeated.

Loving him more for caring enough to ask, she snuggled into the warmth of his body,

"Miriam. I named her Miriam. After my grandmother." Her smile landed on his lips, but he could see the pain she tried to hide in her eyes, pain she would carry with her the rest of her life. Daryl knew that was part of the package and he gladly accepted it.


	9. Chapter 9 - Simple Man

I am aware of the copious amounts of Bethyl fluff in this chapter and I would apologize, but I'm not sorry. lol Thanks, always, for reading and commenting!

Simple Man

When they woke the next morning, Beth was snuggled into his body, curled up against him. One arm folded against his chest, one leg in between his knees, his right arm around her back, pulling her as close as he could get her. His other arm, pillowed under her head, tangled in her hair, was stiff and aching but there was no way he was moving it. He stared at her in disbelief. Beth's breathing was even, her chest rising and falling at slow increments. Her hair was alluringly tangled. Had last night actually happened?

What the hell? He'd never snuggled before. Definitely never thought he'd like it. He for sure never spent the night with one of the girls he ended up in bed with. Always taking off before the sun came up. Now, he snuggled her closer to him, taking in the moment. Committing it to memory.

And what did this mean? Were they 'together' now? If he had any say about it Beth was his woman, now and, well, forever if she would have him. It was amazing what the love of a good woman could do. How it could change a man over the span of a few short months. You're being ridiculous Dixon, he scolded himself. You haven't even told her how you feel yet, you idiot. Have sex with her once; mind-blowing, unbelievably amazing sex, but still…

Lost in his own thoughts he didn't see Beth open her eyes and stare at him, wondering what he could be thinking. She didn't dare move, not wanting to break the magical spell that surrounded them as the rising sun beams filtered gold through the closed curtains. In all her years with Jimmy she never felt as safe as she was in the arms of Daryl. Not that she was comparing the two...they were incomparable. Two different people. And it wasn't that she need to be taken care of. She wanted someone she could stand with, not someone she cowered behind.

Daryl's brow furrowed as he stared off into nothing, in apparent deep thought. His face covered in almost a full beard now, eyes piercing blue. Ruggedly handsome. A warm sensation of affection for this man quilled through her body, starting in her stomach, growing outward.

After Jimmy, not wanting to be hurt again, Beth told herself she wouldn't become close to anyone ever again. So much for that, because Daryl fixed her somehow. He slowed her thoughts, quieted her mind. Stilled her body while at the same time lighting it on fire wherever he looked or touched. She felt incredibly safe in his arms, nestling in even closer, her fingers brushing down his stomach, setting his muscles trembling. A murmur came from his throat and she looked back up to him, his penetrating eyes boring into her.

"Beth," he said simply, quietly, almost in disbelief. Like he didn't quite believe she was still in his arms. Beth could only moan her response. What this man could do to her with only a look was staggering.

Becoming more aware of the chill in the room, she shivered and Daryl pulled the blanket around them.

Snuggling in more, she said, "Emm, I could stay in bed all day."

"Uh huh." Daryl agreed, especially curled up next to a naked woman. This naked woman in particular.

His hand breezed up her rib cage, running the backs of his fingers over her already protruding nipple. settled on her hip, emitting a moan from her.

"Mmmm." Beth rolled him over onto his back, laying on top of him. He ran his hand down her bare back, cupping her smooth, round buttcheek. His eyes roaming over her face, relieved to see some of the heaviness from yesterday had lifted a bit.

She looked like a woman that had been laid down and loved right. Hair mussed, patches of skin red and irritated from his beard. Lips sexily swollen. He felt himself stiffen again thinking about last night and from the sensation of her smooth bare skin on his.

Beth, feeling the change in his body, growing rigid beneath her, she ground her pelvis into his middle.

"You keep that up, we won't be goin' nowhere today."

Lowering her brow to his, she purred, "that's my plan." Placing her lips to his, stirring the air between them. The electricity that she felt last night hadn't eased. It had actually grown in magnitude, gathering heat and steam.

Daryl felt all the air rush out of his lungs in one long exhale. Pulling back, he said, "Damn woman. Ya' gonna to kill me."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll just go get ready for the day then," she teased, rolling slowly off of him, fighting the smile on her lips

"Aw na' you don't." Daryl growled, pulling her by her wrist back onto his body. "Getcha ass back here. He slapped her playfully on the ass.

She squealed, laughing "If I die right now, I'd be the happiest man on earth."

"Is that right?" She asked placing kisses along his neck, up to his ear.

"Hmm…" He slid his hands up her ribs, up to her shoulders, brushing her hair to the side to nibble the sedative skin there. How can her skin be so soft, doing what she does for a living, he wondered somewhere in the back of his mind. How can she smell so good. Her shampoo mixed with the outdoors, intermingled with the faint sweet scent of hay.

She pushed up, her hands on his chest, straddling him. As naked as the day she was born, no hint of shyness as the sheet he'd covered them with slid down her back. He gazed at her then, all of her. From her eyes, still holding a mischievous glint, to her small but firm, perky breasts, down to her flat stomach. He traced his thumb along a stretch mark along the side of her right hip.

Her eyes involuntarily closed, remembering what had caused those marks. He flipped her around, so she lay under him. Trailing kisses down her ribs to that mark on her hip. Caressing it with gentle, wet kisses. He looked up at her out of the tops of his eyes, shyly. This was also new to him; tenderness.

Continuing a line of kisses across the delicate curve of her hip, across her taut rosy, quivering skin. Her eyes took on the haze of ecstasy. She was beautiful, breathtaking even. When he was sure he could form the right words he would tell her exactly how he felt. Now though, he climbed her skin with his mouth. Cupping her breasts, using his tongue to bring each nipple to a point. With one fail swoop he entered her, and feeling her tremble beneath him, he smiled.

Beth had to concentrate on breathing in enough air to survive, then let it out on a moan as his thumbs brushed over her nipples, sending a pulling sensation at her belly, mindlessly she ached for him to take her deeper. She lifted a hand to his face, wrapped her legs around him and enjoyed the fast, dark ride.

. . .

"Beth," Daryl began, laying together, basking in the gloriousness of the moment. In their little corner of the world, right at that very moment in eachother's arms, all was right. She was reluctant to let go of him, to allow the world to intrude on the little nest they created in her bed.

He wanted, needed, to tell her how he felt. He just didn't know where to begin. She looked expectantly at him, waiting for him to continue. As the seconds ticked by he felt more and more like a fool.

He fumbled, cursing his own ineptness. "Damn it."

Beth reached up, ran her fingers through his hair. "It's okay. Ya' can tell me later…"

Taking her hand, he kissed it, "No, if I don't say this now, I..." Trying honesty for a change, he began, "I don't have a lot to offer you in the this world, nothin' at all really. All's I can offer you is me. To be there for you in any way I can. To help you on the farm with all your damn animals. Ta' protect you, though you don't need protecting," he quickly added. "To give you babies. Lots of them." He smiled, wondering who the hell he'd turned into. "To love you," he paused then, letting that sink in, he continued, "To give you everything that I am."

Beth smiled at him, eyes glistening. Being offered something so simple, yet monumental. He was offering up himself, and nothing could of been more perfect to Beth.

"Daryl, I don't need more than that. I don't need you to promise the moon or the stars. Or gold jewelry or a fancy house. I want an honest, simple man, with a kind heart. I want to fall asleep and wake up next to you. I want to be with you. I had no idea how much of a hole was in my heart until you filled it."

He gently laid his palm on her face, circling her cheek with his thumb. He felt slightly optimistic for the future, for their future. The one they would share together.

Questions began to sound on her mind. No, she stopped herself from asking, Nows not the time. Part of her wanted to keep things the way they were. She wanted to believe that the past had nothing to do with their future, but she knew better.

Daryl shifted away. "I guess I'd better go earn my keep. Do chores." It seemed like it should've been much later in the day, but in reality it was only a little after seven.

Unabashedly she threw the sheet off her naked body. "I'll help you."

"No, stay. I'll be back soon."

It would be fall soon, Beth had so much to do. Harvest her little garden, can what she did harvest, cut and stack the rest of the wood. Not to mention the regular everyday things that needed to be tended to. The idea of staying in bed was too much of a temptation to resist. She stretched luxuriously, her hands landing behind Daryl's neck pulling him down to her.

"Hurry back," she said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm a lot of things but stupid aint one of 'em" He planted a noisy kiss on her lips and strode, buck naked, from her bedroom.

Beth tried to snuggle back down into the bed but the past years of waking up with dawn's first light got the better of her. After fifteen minutes of laying with her eyes closed she kicked off the covers and made her way to the bathroom. Her body felt gloriously weak and used up with the after effect of great sex. Daryl's hands washed away the anguish that the rain had not.

Feeling better than she had in a good long while, Beth threw on her night shirt. An oversized t-shirt, that she had thrown on the floor of the bathroom before dressing the morning before and went to make her and Daryl some breakfast.

That is where Daryl found her. At the counter, her back to him, pouring pancake batter onto a griddle. Wearing a short, worn Def Leppard t-shirt, showing off those long legs. She had her iPhone on the table, blasting something loud and fast that he didn't recognize.

She jumped when she saw him from the corner of her eye, reflexively reaching for her Glock at her hip that wasn't there.

"Don't be so jumpy. Its jus' me." He spoke quietly, putting his arms around her waist, holding her from behind, nibbling her neck.

She shrugged, "Habit."

He understood. He knew she didn't like to be caught without her weapon. But, the t-shirt left little room to holster a gun and he loved that her bare legs were now accessible to his hands, running them from her outter thigh up to her hip.

"You'd better quit that, or else these pancakes ain't gonna get made."

"I am pretty hungry." Whether he was hungry for her or the pancakes, Beth wasn't sure. She turned to him, spatula in hand, putting her arms around his neck pulling him in for a kiss as his hands ran from her hip to ribs, sending shivers through her body.

They both jumped when a knock echoed through the house. Sheriff Deputy Grimes stood at the kitchen screen door. A look of amusement sat on his clean shaven face.

"Howdy." The Sheriff drawled with a shit eating grin.

Daryl released Beth, turning to him. Nodding, not at all concerned the sheriff just caught him mid-grope. "Sheriff. Come on in. We are about to have breakfast if you wanna' join us."

"Daryl!" Beth spoke in hushed urgency. He knew she was more concerned about his inviting what she considered to be the enemy to breakfast over her lack of pants.

"I just come to check on ya'll. We got quite a bit of rain in the last day and a half. The road is washed out in places. No one without four wheel drive is getting up or down your road. I just so happened to skip breakfast this mornin' and that smells awfully good." Rick, opened the screen door and walked into the kitchen as he spoke. Either he didn't hear Beth's protest, or chose to ignore it.

He didn't seem at all surprised to find them cozied up together. He knew when two people had the hots for each other. It was obvious the last time he'd been there. The way Beth looked at Daryl with pure anger, like she could kill him. And the way Daryl seemed to find it amusing gave their feelings away. It was inevitable two people with such heat between them would eventually end up in bed together.

"You came all this way to just check on us, huh?" Beth asked skeptically.

"Yep," he said, all innocence. He wore a regular hat today, that he took off, when he sat at the table with Daryl.

Beth begrudgingly served a stack of pancakes with a side of bacon before disappearing into her bedroom to get changed. Cursing at herself in the mirror as she brushed her matted and snarly hair into a ponytail and pulled on a pair of jeans.

When she came back into the kitchen, fully dressed with her Glock in its rightful place, she felt more composed. The men were in deep discussion about the upcoming hunting season when she returned to the kitchen. Snatching the chair back, she plopped into the seat. Foregoing the butter and syrup, she snatched a pancake off the already half eaten stack and began to tear pieces off, chewing it, not registering the taste. Hatred practically palpitating off of her. She could figure his visit once, but twice? Not so much.

This wasn't the first time someone didn't like him for the simple fact that he was a lawman. Not at all perturbed, Rick focused on her, deciding to lay it on the line, "You know, Beth, I'm not the enemy here. How can I earn your trust?" He honestly needed her full cooperation when it came to his investigation and search for Blake.

Beth spoke around a mouth full of food. Daryl knew it was just a front, this tough act, but he would let it play out. Far be it of him to interfere. "Not a matter of my trusting you or or not trusting you."

"What is it a matter of then?" He questioned.

"We've taken care of our own up here since time began. You, the law, are not welcome up here."

"Beth. With all due respect. I am the law in these here parts. Whether you like it or not, it's my job. My job is to keep the law upheld. I care about the townsfolk, and what happens here is my business. Believe me when I tell you I have your best interests at heart." Beth softened a bit. She had a pretty good bullshit detector and she believed him to be sincere.

"Besides," Rick continued, shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth, chewing." I like it out here. Been trying to find a place of my own. 'Course I wouldn't be able to stay up here full time since my job requires me to be in town but it'd be nice to have a place to come to. To relax. I have a twelve year old son, Carl. He's restless. Needs space to roam. Town-life doesn't fit him."

Daryl could appreciate that. "He hunt?"

"Yeah, when he can." Like I said living in the city…"

"Hell, bring him out here. I'll take him hunting."

Beth watched the exchange between the two men, wondering why Daryl was so quick to befriend and help the sheriff.

"He'd like that, thanks."

"No problem."

Beth was done being patient, and stood, scooting her chair back. "If you all are done with your bromance, I got shit to do. See your way out, Sheriff."

Beth slammed the screen door behind her, making her way to the garden. Nothing blew off steam better than pulling weeds.

Rick couldn't help but smile. "She sure is a spitfire."

Daryl chuckled, "You have no idea.

. . .

Beth was still steaming later as she bent along the rows of green beans, her Mucks sinking into the soggy soil. They had gotten quite a bit of rain, puddles were everywhere and the garden as well as the pasture was one big mud field. The animals didn't seem to mind none though, they were as excited about the rain as she was. She watched from where she crouched, pulling up the weeds that had seemed appeared overnight, as Daryl walked the Sheriff to his Bronco.

Beth bristled at the sight of the two, like they were old buddies or something. Talking about the hot-headed little woman, no doubt. Well, she had news for the both of them; she was not easily won over. She had no reason to trust Sheriff Rick Grimes and didn't intend to, no matter how nice of a guy he appeared to be.

. . .

Leaning against the fence post Daryl watched Beth pulling weeds with more gusto than anyone he'd ever seen pick weeds before. "You know, babe, it's just some weeds, no need to get all pissed off about 'em." Knowing full well the weeds weren't what she was pissed off about. By way of answer she threw a handful of muddy weeds over her shoulder, hitting him directly mid-chest.

"Good aim."

"Damn it Dixon, don't patronize me. Why are you being such a kiss ass to the sheriff? I mean no offense, but you don't seem like the type to be all buddy-buddy with the lawman."

Normally he wasn't, but he liked Grimes. Had a good feeling about him. He nimbly jumped over the fence and walked to her. Stood waiting until she looked at him. Beth stood, dusting her hands off on her jeans. He saw through her angry facade so easily, he knew she was hurt and maybe even feeling betrayed.

"He hasn't done anything to lead me to believe he's being dishonest. He wants to find that Blake guy and I don't want that guy sniffing around here bothering you anymore. Sounds like a win-win to me."

"I can…"

"Handle yourself," he finished for her. "I know. Rick knows that too. Everyone who's ever spoke to you for more than a few seconds knows that. But, that doesn't mean Rick can't help you." He put his hands on her shoulders, bending slightly to look at her downturned face, "You don't have to be such a hard ass all of the time, ya' know. Accepting help is not a sign of weakness."

"I'm not a hard ass." She said, reluctantly giving in to Daryl's way of thinking.

"Of course you're not." He said, purposefully teasing her.

"So are ya' gonna help me weed this garden or are you gonna make me show you what a hard ass I really am?" she goaded in return.

"Yes ma'am," he said, planting a kiss on her forehead.


	10. Chapter 10 - Half a Dozen Donuts

**Some time has passed in between the last chapter and this one, so that why I separated it into parts. Thank you all so much for reading/commenting. :) And thanks ivyandocean for the idea of adding Hershel's approval to their relationship. :)**

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Part 2

Half a Dozen Donuts

Time went by and the days became shorter. The sun became less hot, the leaves became less green and the weather took on a crisp you could almost crumble in your hands. Daryl and Beth worked hard together preparing for the upcoming winter. The roof was finished. Beth canned vegetables, turned tomatoes into sauce then canned them. Picked apples from the few trees Beth's land provided. Made canned applesauce. Wood was stacked high in the barn, and the back porch, and Beth was looking forward to a slower time of year. Time to be spent curled up with Daryl.

Daryl spent less and less nights in the barn, until he was sleeping next to Beth every night. It was left unspoken between them. Beth never really asked Daryl to stay with her the in house, and he never did either. It just sort of naturally happened. Her bed felt immensely empty without him in it. Her body inexplicably cold without his warmth wrapped around her. He felt a million miles away in that barn. So, they gave into what they both wanted and Daryl spent every night with her. It was nearing the end of September and Beth couldn't remember the last time she'd slept alone. The transition of Daryl going from the barn office to the main house was seamless.

Beth was afraid if she tried to put words to it, the spell would be broken. The little bubble they created for themselves would pop, and the world would begin to seep in and ruin everything. Even Philip and Jimmy had been uncharacteristically absent.

"So, what do ya' do in the winter months, out here all alone." Daryl asked one afternoon, sitting at the table thumbing through the small town newspaper. Not really reading so much as watching Beth move in her effortless way. She was finishing up the last of the applesauce, lining the heated jars on a dish towel along the counter as she removed them from a giant pan of boiling water. "Beside eat your weight in applesauce." Seriously. What did she need with so much damn applesauce?

With her back turned to him, she smiled. Rolled her shoulders. "I dunno'. Take care of the animals. Wait for spring. I really don't mind the quieter time. Especially since I have company this year."

Her words hung in the air like the smoke from the chimney on a cold morning. They hadn't talked about their future. They just lived day to day. Watching things unfold as they happened. Insinuating she would have company this winter, his company, was something that hadn't come up in their conversations. She visibly stiffened. Becoming overly preoccupied by the jars of applesauce.

Daryl picked up on it. Of course he did. "Does that mean I'm welcome to stay on for a while then?"

Turning to him, she honestly answered, "Honey, you can stay as long as you want." Indefinitely. To which he nodded and winked, going back to the newspaper.

Outwardly he played it cool. Beth allowing him to set up camp, so to speak, with her for the winter was big. Not big, it was monu-fucking-mental. He hadn't expected things to take the turn they had. And it made things...tricky. He was a loner, a drifter. She found him roaming her woods, for Christ's sake. He wasn't wearing his "loner" sandwich board or anything, but his appearance and manner must of given it away. She didn't seem to mind that. Nor did she seem to mind his moodiness or precondition for solitude. She craved it as well, she understood him. More than anyone ever understood him before. Though, that wasn't really fair to assume because he'd never let anyone get close enough to know much about him.

One thing he did noticed about her was, she kept to herself almost as much as he. If he wanted to know something and asked, she would tell him. Still, she kept her thoughts close, and he didn't prod. They were learning more about each other each day, they weren't in a rush. And Daryl liked it that way.

Much to Beth's sadness the day had come when she had to send her bull to the butcher and sell Spunky and his mama.

She was able enough to butcher her own bull, but in all honesty it was a bigger job than she wanted to deal with. So the butcher that does such things came and put down Clem and hauled him off to be processed. Making herself scarce for that part of the morning, she allowed Datl handle it. It was strange to let someone else do the hard work for once. Daryl seemed more than happy to cover for her though. Happy she trusted him to take over something she didn't want to do.

When the man who bought Spunky and his Mama came to fetch them she was there. Beth was in the trailer getting them settled, trying her best to reason with herself. They were just cows. No big deal. But, they were her babies and her heart felt heavy with letting them go.

As they watched the man pull the trailer slowly down her road, Beth felt an unnecessary sadness and foreboding come over her that she couldn't shake.

Picking up on her plummeting mood, Daryl elbowed her lightly, "Ya' alright?"

Beth only nodded and turned, going back to the house, hiding her tears so Daryl wouldn't think she was being ridiculous.

She sat on her bed. Sniffing back tears. Her final undoing was when her line of vision landed on a framed picture of her and her parents and sister. Going to the dresser, she picked up the frame, staring into their innocent young faces. She had to struggle to remember her parents once so young.

She and Maggie had sworn, in childlike immaturity, that they would always be there for each other. Now fifteen years after that picture was taken, she hadn't seen or spoke with Maggie since that day in the dinner. Every time she went to call her something came up or she just plain chickened out.

Maggie had called her a few times, but seemed to give up when she didn't get a response. The more time went by the more difficult it became to make that phone call to her. Her heart ached for her sister. She wondered how she was, if she and Glenn had moved in with each other or were waiting till they got married. Had they already gotten married?

The question left a pit in Beth's stomach. If she missed their wedding, she would never forgive herself. Tears streamed unabashedly down her face. Maggie was the only family she had left, and she continued letting time pass putting more and more of a gap between them.

"What's this all about?" Daryl asked from the bedroom doorway. Startling her, sending her spinning around to the sound of his voice.

"Damn it, Daryl. You're too quiet." She sniffed, wiping tears away with the sleeve of her flannel shirt. The tears refused to stop.

Daryl went to her, taking the frame out of her hands, "Oh, thinking about Maggie?"

Beth shrugged. "I don't know why I'm being so emotional…it's stupid."

Daryl sat the frame back in its spot, "It's not stupid. She's your sister." He and his brother would go years without seeing or talking to one another. He knew Beth well enough to know that's not how she and her sister lived.

"These your parents? What'd you say their names were?" He asked needlessly, he rarely forgot anything once told to him.

"Yeah. Annette and Hershel." It was almost too faint to notice, the softening of her voice when she spoke their names. "They weren't perfect. I miss em'."

"I know ya' do." He could read it in her tone of voice, in her eyes.

She looked from the picture to Daryl. Smiling sadly, "My daddy woulda' liked you."

This surprised him, he wasn't the type of guy a father would approve of. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. He would approve of us, I think." He never did like Jimmy. Daryl...he would like.

Family was obviously important to Beth and the idea that her father would've approved of him gave him a warm feeling he didn't understand. "Why don't you call her."

"Maggie?" She asked for clarification and Daryl nodded. "It's not that easy."

"Sure it is."

Beth rolled her eyes, smiling sadly again. "You're not a girl, you have no say in the ins and outs of sisterly relationships."

"True." He leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her. Making her tears come harder.

"Hey, I have an idea."

"Hmm?" She asked, her voice mumbled into Daryl's shoulder.

"Let's go see her."

Beth pulled back, whipping her face again. "Go see who? Maggie?"

"Sure. Why not. We got chores done early today. The cows are taken care of. We don't have to be back for a while..."

Beth smiled up to him. Loving him for his spontaneity. "Okay. Let's go!"

. . .

It was a beautiful day. Beth sat in the passenger side of her Scout as Daryl drove towards town. Her window rolled down, the radio turned up. She was hopeful that she and Maggie could mend things and she wouldn't be upset for the surprise visit. What would she say to find that not only is Daryl still with her, but she was also in love with him?

In love. It seemed so juvenile, yet so serious at the same time. After Jimmy, Beth had resigned herself to a life of solitude and seclusion. Of aloneness. Thinking she didn't need anyone. That was a lie, she now allowed herself to admit. A lie she told herself to make life bearable once again. You opened your heart, you left space for the hurt to get in. She realized now, that chance of hurt was also a chance at a new life.

When they pulled up to the curb at Maggie's house, parked in the driveway was a shiny new, black Silverado Chevy four-wheel drive.

"Who's truck?" Daryl wondered.

"I don't know, maybe Glenn's?"

Daryl nodded his approval, maybe this Glenn guy wasn't so bad, after all. In his opinion, you could tell a lot about a man by the truck he drove.

Before she got out Daryl said, "Why don't you just go in. I'll leave you the truck, go for a walk, get a coffee. Something. You two can have some time alone. You don't need me in the middle." Since he was the cause of their fight to begin with. Not that he blamed Maggie for having an issue with her baby sister taking up with a complete stranger, especially one who behaved as he did that day at the diner.

"Ya' sure?" Beth asked.

"Yep." He climbed out of the truck, rounded the hood meeting her in the middle, and handed her the keys. "Call me when you're ready to go."

"Okay," she stood on her tip-toes, gave him a kiss then slowly went up the stairs leading to the front door.

Normally she would walk right in. This time, her visit was unexpected to say the least. Plus, what if Glenn liked to sit around in his underwear. She didn't want to take the chance of stumbling in upon something she shouldn't be seeing. She rose her hand and knocked. A moment later she heard footsteps coming toward the door and Maggie's face appeared behind the curtained window. To say she looked surprised was an understatement.

Maggie opened the door and they stood staring at one another for a second in stunned silence. Without a word, Maggie reached out and snatched Beth up into a fierce hug. Beth let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding and hugged her sister back.

Maggie pulled her in and shut the door behind her, talking as she did. "I'm so glad you came, Beth. I'm so sorry…."

Beth held up a hand, "No don't. I should be the sorry one."

"How about ya'll just call a truce?" Glenn asked as he came from the back of the house into the living area.

"Sounds good to me," Beth agreed.

Maggie nodded her agreement and took Beth by her hands, pulling her down onto the couch. "I feel like it's been years since I talked to you. Every time I picked up the phone, I just didn't know what to say." Beth admitted.

"I felt the same way."

Glenn joined Maggie at the couch sitting on the armrest, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. Beth didn't see a wedding ring on Glenn's finger, but she had to be sure, "Please tell me I didn't miss the wedding."

"No, you didn't." Maggie said, looking up at Glenn.

"She refused to even plan anything until you two were talking again." Glenn interjected.

Beth felt immensely relieved. "Oh good. I woulda' been devastated," she spoke honestly.

"Well I'm going to go see a man about a unicorn. Let you two talk." He bent at the waste and putting a finger under Maggie's chin, lifting her mouth to his. Then surprising Beth, he placed a brotherly kiss on the top of her head. "Glad you're here Beth," he said. Grabbing his car keys, he left and Beth and Maggie were finally alone.

"Well. It sounds like we got a wedding to plan." Beth said, hugging her sister again.

. . .

Sitting on Maggie's couch, they talked about weddings and life and reality TV and how sad Beth was having to sell her cows. Flowing into conversation like they'd never missed a beat. It turned out Maggie refused to even look at wedding dresses, or reception venues. Nothing. Because it was something you should so with your sister, if you were lucky enough to have one.

With the use of Maggie's laptop, they were pursuing wedding ideas on Pinterest. Eating donuts and drinking cold coke's from the can.

"Ya' know, we should probably be eating carrots or something. I have to fit in a wedding dress soon, and you have to fit into a maide of honor dress."

The thought put Beth off her donuts. "Ugh, you're not gonna' make me wear anything ugly are ya'?"

"Hmm." Maggie contemplated, wiping powdered sugar from her lips. "Taffeta maybe? Oh, I know, tulle. Lots of tulle."

"Oh hell no!" Beth laughed, punching lightly at Maggie.

They stayed clear of the subject of Daryl though; the elephant in the room. Beth knew she had to bring him up. He was much more than a hired farm hand now. She loved him.

At the next lull in conversation, Beth decided now was as good a time as any. "Maggie, I need to tell ya' something."

. .

Daryl sat in a booth in the back of the first place he came across that had the scent of coffee wafting through the door. A small diner with a long white counter and red plastic booths. He decided on a booth in the back and after ordering a coffee - black, he began thumbing through a Truck-N-Trader magazine someone had left behind. Very fortuitous, he needed a set of his own wheels, couldn't keep relying on Beth's old Scout. After about thirty minutes, he was sipping coffee that had gone cold, looking out the window at nothing in particular, when none-other than Glenn parked his Silverado in one of the slanted spots in front of the diner.

Glenn went right to the counter, seeming to know the waitress, he called her by her name and ordered a coffee. While he waited he retrieved his phone from his pocket and began scrolling through something on the screen. Taking a deep breath, Daryl gathered up his magazine and cold coffee and moseyed over to the counter, plopping onto the stool next to him.

"That your truck?" Daryl asked, catching Glenn off guard.

Engrossed in whatever he was reading on his phone, Glenn looked up, then back to his phone only to look up again. "Daryl!" He seemed genuinely happy, if not a little surprised, to see him as he slapped him on the shoulder in greeting.

"Daryl! How are ya'?"

"Good, good."

"I figured the girls would want to be alone so I hightailed it outta there." Daryl explained.

"Smart man. I thought the same. And yes, that's my truck."

Daryl nodded, "Nice set of wheels."

"Thanks, I had been driving the same old truck I'd had since high school. Thought it was 'bout time I traded it in."

"Probably a good idea."

"Still bristled at the idea though. Never thought I'd be able to buy a new truck. Or a new anything for that matter."

Daryl eyed him, "That right?" He looked like a rich kid to Daryl.

"Yeah, grew up with pretty much nothing. Worked my way through college, then graduate school. Then spent the last ten years playing off a few student loans. Worked three jobs till the last couple years where I got the job I have now."

Daryl's respect for him grew marginally. Maybe Glenn wasn't the highfalutin city slicker Daryl initially thought him to be. Daryl respected hard work and those who didn't shy away from it.

"Then I met Maggie. Seemed like it was meant to happen that way. Now I can take care of her, not that she needs it but…" Glenn stopped himself, looking self conscious, taking a sip of his coffee. "I'm not sure why I'm telling you all this," he chuckled.

Daryl understood one hundred percent. "Hey, I get it. The sisters sounds like they are a lot alike."

Glenn looked at Daryl and smiled. Yep, Daryl decided Glenn wasn't a bad guy at all.

"Love?" Maggie asked, looking more unsure by the second.

Beth nodded, "Yeah. Crazy huh."

"I'm happy for you, I really am." Beth heard a 'but' coming.

"But."

There it was!

"What do you really know about him?

"Maggie." Beth began and stood. Feeling a bit woozy, sat back down again. Thankfully Maggie hadn't noticed. Too many donuts.

"I know you don't agree…"

Maggie stopped her by putting a hand on her knee. "I guess no man is going to be good enough for my baby sister. Daddy's not here to do the job, so I'm next in line, I guess."

At the mention of their father, Beth's eyes filled with tears.

"Don't cry, I just don't want another Jimmy," Maggie confessed.

"Me either, believe me when I say Daryl is nothing. Nothing," She emphasized, "like Jimmy." Beth regretted and hated the tears that spilled out of her eyes. Maggie, scooted to sit closer to her and folded her in her arms. It felt so good to be next to Maggie again, Beth hadn't allowed herself to notice just how much she missed her sister till that day.

"Don't cry. You know the rule. You cry, I cry." And Maggie's own eyes filled with tears.

At that moment, Daryl and Glenn came through the front door.

"Aw shit, we were gone what? An hour? And they are crying already."

"Isn't that the way it always works?" Glenn asked, rolling his eyes in mock-aggravation.

Daryl was a man of his word and he had promised Beth he would apologize to Maggie for his behavior and he had planned on keeping his promise. So after she and Beth dried their eyes, all the while at the same time laughing, Daryl stood tall in the small living room and said, "I apologize for how I acted at the diner that day. I was...well an asshole." There, no excuses, just a straightforward apology. He put his hand out to shake on it. Maggie eyed his outstretched hand, and for a split-second he thought she might not take it. But when she did her hand was cool and firm.

"Thanks Daryl. I appreciate that." Maggie looked at him then, really looked. He did have kind eyes and was handsome under that beard, in a Grizzly Adams kind of way. He really needed to shave was the worst she had to say about him, and that, she figured, wasn't all that bad. "I hear my baby sister has quite a thing for you." Maggie joked, breaking the somewhat awkward tension between them.

"I have quite a thing for her too, more than a thing actually." Daryl smiled at Beth where she sat on the couch.

Hearing it come from Daryl made it more real for Maggie. "Well in that case, I'm happy for the both of ya'." And she put her arms around him, pulling them into bear hug. Daryl put an arm around Maggie's shoulder, eying Glenn who had smug look on his face. If he didn't know better he knew Glenn was holding back a shit-eating grin, if he'd ever saw one.

Throwing him a bone, Glenn said, "Alright, alright. Enough of this mushy shit. Anyone hungry? I'm starved." Even though between the two of them, Beth and Maggie polished off half a dozen donuts, they were, indeed, hungry.

. . .

The day could not of gone any better Beth decided on the way back home, stuffed from the lunch they shared. Glenn and Daryl, outside grilling up hamburgers, Maggie and herself in the kitchen, making macaroni salad to go with it.

She felt inexplicably tired, and the motion of the truck made her eyes heavy. Dozing off as she dazily thought through the days events.

By the time they got back it was getting dark.

"Baby, we're home." Daryl's voice was soft, sweet. She came to with a smile on her face.

"We're home?" She questioned sleepily.

"Yep."

"No, I mean our home. Your's and mine?"

It took a moment for what she said to sink in, "If you'll let it be. I'd love nothin' more than to share it with you,"

Beth spoke, her voice quiet. "Good. 'Cause that's what I want."

Daryl laid a gentle kiss to her lips and she slid across the seat, exiting out the driver side.

As they climbed the steps to the house, Daryl stopped briefly to put his lips to Beth's. Starting slowly, innocently, when a moan escaped her throat, it almost drove him insane. She angled her head, taking the kiss deeper, hotter. His tongue dove into her mouth to dance with hers. Her hands ran up his chest then around his neck, pulling him closer to her.

His hands encapsulated her waist, pulling her up hard against him. Daryl pulled back briefly, placing his brow to hers, "I love you," he ground out. It wasn't easy for him to speak those words, but once he did, his chest didn't feel quite so tight.

Her response..."I want you now, nothing in between us, jus' you buried deep inside of me."

How could he resist that?

He turned to quickly unlock the door, then walking backward pulling her inside the kitchen as he went, when he felt a sudden pain shoot through his head. Seeing stars before complete blackness came over him. The last sound he heard was Beth's agonized scream.


	11. chapter 11 - Regrets

**All I have to say is ... I'm sorry.**

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Regrets

Beth screamed as Daryl fell straight to the floor. Before she had time to do much more than scream, someone grabbed her from behind, rendering her arms useless. Breathing hard, tears in her eyes, she forced herself to remain calm, to keep a level head as her daddy taught her to do, whether he realized it or not.

"This could've been handled in a much simpler way." A voice came from the darkened kitchen . "But, no. You had to make it difficult." The overhead light was switched on and the soft yellow light bathed the room. As Beth's eyes adjusted, she could see Phillip, of course it was Phillip, casually sitting at the kitchen table, legs crossed and his folded hands were propped up on his Khakied knee. No suite today. Dressing down for the dirty work. His hired hand stood over Daryl with his fists curled around a wooden bat. And Daryl lay unconscious on the floor, breaking her heart into a million pieces. Except for the blood pouring from the back of his head, he looked almost peaceful. Like he was sleeping. Except he wasn't sleeping. All because of her, his life was in danger. How could she of been so stupid to allow him to get that close to her? She was trouble for everyone she loved.

Steadying her breath, now was not the time to be self deprecating, she took stock of what she knew. Daryl was unconscious, Abraham had a bat and Philip had obviously come to do to her what he'd done to Dale a few weeks prior. They must of parked down one of the side roads. She was asleep on the way home. Didn't even think to look. She realized at that moment how complacent she allowed herself to become. Since she and Daryl had become closer, she let go of some of the things she once swore she never would.

Beth struggled, turning her head right then left, trying to get a glimpse of who was behind her. Adding insult to injury, it was Jimmy that held her. Her ex-husband was a money hungry idiot, to be sure, but this was way beyond what she ever thought he was capable of.

"Jimmy?" Why did she allow herself to continue be shocked by the depths in which this man would stoop? When would she learn?

"Just do what they ask," he whispered in her ear. "Don't be so damn hard-headed."

"You friggin'..." Beth fought but he only held her tighter. He stood a good foot and half over her, outweighed her by 100 pounds easy. Her heart beat, her blood rushed through her veins, her head began to buzz with dizziness. A feeling of helplessness came over her, she didn't even have her gun on her, not feeling the need to wear it into town that day. Yes, panic began to claw at the outer edges of her mind and body.

"You had to make things difficult." Phillip said again. Her attention went back to him as he scooted back his chair and walked to her.

"That's where you're wrong," Beth said, hating the quiver of her voice. "If you would of just let things be. Took no for an answer. I'm not the one making this harder."

"I don't take no for an answer." He said simply. "Once I set my mind to something, see something I want. I will have it. No matter the cost." He looked at her from her eyes, down to her feet.

"You are a pretty thing, a little too hick for my taste. Though, I think I could make an exception, just this once." He ran a finger from her cheek down her neck to just above the swell of her breast at the seam of her t-shirt.

Beth shivered, but refused to be intimidated. "Really? I could of swore you and your man over there," she motioned with her chin to where the man in black still stood over Daryl, "were a couple."

Philip's face went from complacent, emotionless even, sharp angry angles. "Don't be such a stupid little whore!" Phillip's voice rose with every word, his hand lashed out, stinging across her face. Beth tasted blood in the corner of her mouth

Taking a deep breath, Phillip regained his composure before continuing, speaking a few inches from her face. "Maybe I should show you which side I bat for?"

Beth felt the food she wolfed down that day roll in her stomach. grinding her teeth she said, "Fuck you, if you touch me, I'll kill you." How or why, she had no idea, she just knew she would keep her word. Beth knew she probably shouldn't rattle his cage at this point, but keeping her mouth shut had never been one of her better qualities.

Rearing back, she spat blood onto his face.

"Bitch!" He squealed sounding a bit like a squirrel stuck in a trap, striking her again across her face, then took a meticulously folded handkerchief out of his breast pocket and whipped his face.

"Abraham!" He yelled, gesturing to Beth. Dread climbed up her spine. A few moments ago Abraham seemed all but ready to pound her skull in. Now something strange happened - he hesitated.

"Beatin' up on women. That's never been my thing." Abraham spoke for the first time. His voice deep, angry.

"Your 'thing' is whatever I pay for it to be!" Philip said using air quotes.

"Na' man, this is your thing."

"You had no problem beating the old man across the river, now did you? Now, damn it, do what I tell you to do!"

The dread Beth felt before paled in comparison to what she felt now. Terror ran her blood cold. "Why did ya'll do that to Dale? He's jus' an old man."

"Don't you worry, we took it easy on him, compared what we are going to do to you anyhow." He motioned with his hand, "Abraham!"

* * *

 

Rick had just sat down to dinner with his family, a rare occurrence as of late. With his crazy schedule at work, and Carl starting up football practice, they were hardly ever at home at the same time to eat dinner, much to his wife's disappointment. Today, though, the stars aligned and everyone managed to be home at dinner time and Lori went all out. Fried Chicken, baked beans, cheesy potato casserole and Rick thought he smelled a chocolate cake for dessert.

Carl seemed talkative, rather than the down in the dumps teenager he had become in the last few months and Lori even smiled at him. Yes, tonight would be good.

He took his first bite of the chicken, closing his eyes. Crunchy and spicy on the outside and juicy on the inside. Perfect. Before he could even swallow, the radio he kept on his hip sounded. Everyone froze. They all knew too well what that meant. Rick said a quick prayer that it was something his deputy could handle. A small domestic squabble, a drunk driver, what he wouldn't give for a shoplifter. Something easy.

He reached down and turned the volume dial up the radio to hear it better. The dispatch gave the code's for an abandoned vehicle off of MillPond Road.

Relieved, Rick turned the radio back down. The dispatchers monotone voice said, "Rick? Ya; available."

Rick unhooked the radio and spoke into it, "Available for an abandoned vehicle? Rosita, ya' know the owner will show up sooner or later, if not we'll have it towed in twenty four hours." As was protocol and she knew this.

"I understand that Sheriff, but Shane had me run the plate number, just incase I guess, and it came back belonging to Philip Blake." Rick's Sheriff senses sounded in his mind. Millpond Road was where Beth Greene lived. Philip Blake had already roughed up one neighbor, what's one more? There were just too many coincidences to blow it off.

"You said to notify you if anything concerning him came up." Rosita gently reminded him over the radio.

"I did. Thanks Rosital. I'll check it out." Eyeing Lori over his radio as he said the words. She was already pissed. What could he do? Phillip wouldn't leave his vehicle abandoned down some two track of a dirt road for no reason. Rick would bet his badge Blake was up to something.

"Shit," Rick breathed under his breath. Regrettably he backed up from the table, looking at his wife's crestfallen face.

"I'm sorry Lori, but I gotta'..."

"Go," she finished for him. Tall and thin with long chestnut hair, her pretty face became taut and her lips thin, the way they did when she got angry.

Carl made a growling sound and pushed his chair back, scraping it against the wood floor and took off in a run up to his room, where he would undoubtedly spend the rest of the week.

Rick felt less than a stellar human today. To the people he helped, some of them anyhow, he was hero. To his own family he was a low-grade, substandard father and husband. He needed to find a way to balance his work and home life because before he knew it, he would no longer have a home life.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. The last thing he wanted was another fight.

"You're always sorry. But nothing ever changes," she threw her napkin on the table.

Rick spread his hands, palms up. "It's my job."

"Yeah, I'm well aware it's your job and I'm also well aware it proceeds us in your list of priorities."

"I have to go. Make sure everything is safe."

Lori held up a hand, through listening to his excuses she had heard a thousand times over. "Just go."

He didn't want to leave but also couldn't leave those he took an oath to protect in the lurch. Torn, he went to the sideboard table, picked up his hat and keys to the Bronco and said "I'll be back." When he turned back around Lori had already left the table.

. . .

When Rick had finally reached the abandoned vehicle, it was sure enough Blake's based on Dale's description and the plates. Why was it tucked up into the trees, down a seldom used road. And, how long had it been parked? The hood was cold to the touch. Someone had reported it an over hour earlier...That left plenty of time for trouble to be had.

Jogging back to his Bronco he'd parked behind the SUV, he took off toward the Greene farm. He knew Daryl was there, but still, he had a bad feeling. Nothing good could come from this.

When Philip motioned to Abraham, and he hesitated again, Beth took the moment of distraction to her advantage. She pulled down her full body weight, twisting to face Jimmy. Her shoulder popping before feeling the excruciating pain shoot through her arm. Ignoring it, she then brought her knee up high in between Jimmy's legs. She felt, if only momentarily, immense satisfaction as he bent over, grabbing himself in pain. His mouth opened in an O, but no sound came out. She then headbutted him in the bridge of his nose. He dropped to his knees, grabbing his face much like he did that day he got into it with Daryl.

Her triumph was brief, however, as Abraham picked her up from behind, enfolding her body in his massive arms. He slammed her down onto the floor, her face making a loud smack against tile flooring. He pinned her wrists with one hand behind her back and pushing the back of her head down with the other. Placing his knee into the middle of her back, she screamed out in pain. "Son of a bitch! Thought beating up on women wasn't your thing?" Beth yelled.

"Now, that's more like it, Abraham." Philip sneered. His voice was eerily calm. As though he saw this kind of thing everyday. On second thought, he probably did.

He kneeled down in front of her, careful not to get any of her blood on him. "This is how this will go down. You are going to sign your name on the line with the X. Got it? Or you are going to meet an unfortunate end. Say, oh, I don't know." He put a hand to his square chin, as though in thought. "Maybe a fire? Or better yet a murder/suicide?"

"He," barely sparing Daryl a glance, "is unstable. As we all know. No one would be the least bit surprised if he went crazy one day."

Beth tried to focus, but her brain was becoming more foggy as the time went by. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and wake up from this hellish nightmare curled up next to Daryl in their bed. The seconds ticked by, leaving her more and more helpless. Then she made the mistake of looking at Daryl. He lay limp on his stomach only a few feet from her.

Regret filled her body. Regret that she wouldn't be able to fulfill so many of the dreams she was naive enough to hope for. Regret she wouldn't someday marry Daryl, then maybe one day become a mom again. Regret that she wouldn't see Maggie and Glenn be married. Wouldn't get to be Aunt to their children.

Regret, she knew, was a fruitless waste of emotion, but now it was all she had left; all the things she would miss out on. Mostly she regretted not being able to spend the rest of her life loving Daryl.

A feeling of tranquility came over her, though, in that moment. An instant of solace. Knowing she would soon see her baby girl again in heaven, if she were so lucky. Because one thing knew for sure was that she would die, quite literally, before she signed away her home.

Rick killed his lights before he got to the driveway, parking along the side of the road. Staying in the shadows, he walked his way up to the house. The kitchen light was on, the rest of the house was dark. Beth's dog Echo met him halfway down the drive. Whining him distress.

"Whats up? Huh? What's goin' on?" He asked the upset dog, petting him on the head. The cool night air was shattered by a woman's scream. Beth. Taking off into a run he unholstering his Colt as he moved quickly along the perimeter of the yard. Scaling the banister he climbed soundlessly onto the porch, crouching down he peeked through the window that was to the right of the door.

Through the screened window he could see Beth. She was sprawled on the floor facing away from him, a large man was pinning her down, her arms bent painfully behind at her back. A man, who he guessed to be was Blake, kneeled in front of her. He then spotted Daryl. He laid further into the kitchen, blood coming from his head. "Damn," Rick whispered.

Rick knew he should pull back, call for backup. Every lick of training and common sense he had ever had told him as much. He couldn't wait for backup, or even his Deputy to come all the way from town.

Daryl either had one hell of a hangover or he was dead. He couldn't quite figure out which as he tried to force his heavy eyelids open. As he did and his surroundings came into view, it all came back to him. He had unlocked the door, dragged Beth inside, intending to make love to her right there on the floor because he wasn't sure they would make it all the way to the bedroom, when something came into contact with his skull. And now as he lay motionless, his head pounding. Beth, his woman, was being held down by Andre' the fuckin' Giant and that prick Blake kneeled in front of her. What was he saying? His voice went in and out, like a radio station that kept losing service. Daryl moved his eyes around the room. Was that Jimmy? Curled into the fetal position, holding his balls?

The bat, he guessed that was used to bash his skull in, sat on the floor a few feet from him. He had no idea if Blake was packing any weapons. He guessed most definitely the man in black was. Should he take the risk? His thoughts felt sluggish and he was sure his body would be too. Then, though he couldn't be sure he wasn't hallucinating, he saw Rick, peaking through the window. Rick made eye contact with him and brought a finger to his lips in a shh-ing motion. Just incase this was not a hallucination, Daryl blinked his acknowledgment.

Once Rick was at the door, Daryl knew it was no hallucination. It was in fact Sheriff Rick Grimes in the flesh. Ticking off a count of three on his fingers, Rick crashed through the screen, firing a clean shot through Abraham's, shoulder, sending him flying back and into the table, toppling it onto him with a loud crash.

Taking advantage of the stunned moment, Daryl lunged for the bat and jumped to his feet. Swaying a bit, he swung at Phillip. Reacting quicker than Daryl had expected a man the likes of him would, Phillip managed to dodge his blow by ducking and rolling to his side.

That's when things went blurry for Daryl. That's when the world slowed down and his vision blurred and it had nothing to do with his head wound. When Philip came back up from dodging Daryl's blow, he held out a small pistol he had tucked into an ankle holster.

Aiming the gun dead center of Daryl's chest, he pulled the trigger. Rick made a jump for Blake, but it wasn't quick enough. He'd already fired off a round…

The reverberation from the gun sent a high pitch ringing through the air as no one dared move. No one breathed. Rick straddled Phillip's body, his gun knocked a few feet from his hand. Abraham was seemingly dead or unconscious under the collapsed table...seconds dragged on like hours. Then Beth, having dove in front of Daryl, brought her hand up in front of her face. It was covered in blood. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she went down.

Simultaneously, Daryl and Rick dove to catch her, Rick catching her first. Taking advantage of the moment, Phillip scurried out from under Rick, making his escape through the broken door, Jimmy following close behind him.

Daryl was torn between going after the sons of bitches or going to Beth, who now lay in Rick's lap. Rick made the decision for him as he gently, but hurriedly, lay Beth's head onto the floor before running out the door after Phillip Blake and Jimmy.

Daryl fell to his knees at Beth's side. He brushed her hair away from her bruised and bloodied face, "Baby, you listen to me. Breathe, okay? You gotta keep breathing." Coming to, Beth, an expression of confused bewilderment on her face, looked from Daryl, down to where her hand lay on the bullet wound.

"Am I shot?" she asked, sounding small.

"Don't look Beth, jus' look at me." Daryl told her, and her eyes traveled back to his, then they glazed over, looking through him. "Just breathe, Beth. Just breathe." But Daryl's voice fell on deaf ears as she closed her eyes and let the blackness overtake her.

Rick returned home as the early morning light peered over the west sky, feeling tired and defeated. He and his men searched the farmland and surrounding areas from corner to corner and still didn't find Phillip or Jimmy. They had abandoned his car and took off on foot. He brought in extra man power and scent dogs, following their trail for miles, but then lost it as it faded away. And now Beth… he couldn't bring himself to think of Beth. For the first time in his career he felt like he'd truly failed.

Now, as he stood in the shower, letting the water run over him, he wished the heaviness he carried on his shoulders would wash away down the drain along with the dirt and blood. Beth's blood had dried and caked onto his skin and no matter how hard he scrubbed he couldn't get the red stain to wash away.

Finally, when the water turned cold, he stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. As he looked at himself in the steamed mirror, he was surprised to see Lori standing at the bathroom doorway, watching him.

He turned to her, leaning on the counter, arms crossed across his chest; accepting of what was to come. He deserved it, no doubt.

Surprisingly, instead of anger, she only sounded sad, resigned. Rick felt that was worse.

She asked, "How did it go?"

"Not well," he said honestly.

"I'm sorry about that."

Rick raised an eyebrow in skepticism.

"Really, I am," she said.

"Lori, I am sorry for earlier, but I can't just…It didn't go well tonight, I didn't." He began to babble.

"Get the bad guy?" She supplied.

He shook his head. Surprising him, and possibly herself, she went to him then, putting her hands on his damp shoulders and he tentatively grasped her slim hips, resting his brow on her shoulder.

* * *

 

In a cold and dark room, Daryl sat in the corner. Opting for the plastic chair rather than the bench with white paper over it that crinkled annoyingly with every move. He fought off the involuntary shivery movements that ran through his body. His head pounded but it was just a sidenote compared to the ache that ran through his broken hearted chest.

When the nurse entered the room and switched on the bright overhead light, he didn't bother to look up.

"Mr. Dixon, we'd like to keep you overnight for observation. You've got a concussion and…"

"I wanna' see Beth."

"Who?"

He did look up then, the nurse took a step back, holding the chart up to her chest. "You know damn well who. The woman I came in with. The woman I've been asking about the last two fucking hours you've had me waiting in this room."

"Are you a relative of hers?"

Daryl stood, he was in no mood for hospital protocol or bullshit bureaucracy at that moment. "If you don't take me to her, I will find her on my own."

The nurse cleared her throat, and opening the door, she meekly said, "Follow me."

They didn't say a word as Daryl followed the nurse to the elevator going up a floor, then taking a right to the intensive care. She motioned with her hand, and turned on her heel leaving him alone with Beth.

She looked so tiny in that big hospital bed. Wires and IV's coming and going and intersecting in and out of her body. Her hair matted, her face bruised. Something broke in him at the sight of her, something he didn't even know existed before Beth, and he slid down into another plastic chair and buried his face in his hands.

Daryl had a hell of a bad life. The only person showing him any love took off when he was a young child, leaving him to be raised by a drunk, abusive father. After he died, his equally volatile brother took over. When he was finally able to get away, he wandered from place to place. Never putting roots down. Never getting close to anyone. All that, and more, he could deal with.

But now... He'd finally found something. Something he could hang on to. Someone amazing, that seemed to see something in him no one else ever had. He'd found her and now there's a chance she might be taken away from him. In his mind he pleaded over and over again:

_Not her, not her, not her._


	12. Chapter 12 - Picture Perfect

**I hope this chapter makes up for the last chapter. Thanks for reading! Please comment, let me know what you all think. :)**

* * *

 

Daryl sat at Beth's bedside, waiting for her to come to. Wishing she would open her eyes. He had waited all night, holding her limp hand, not allowing himself to sleep. Waiting for some sign of consciousness. So far nothing. Just the blipping of the machines and the steady rise and fall of her chest.

Once they bandaged up his head, which now throbbed with every movement, in the emergency room, he came to her bedside. They wanted to admit him for observation but he refused. He only wanted to see Beth. To be there when she woke up. The doctors had performed surgery on her, removed the bullet from her side and stitched her back up. Sounded easy enough. Why then hadn't she woken up?

Sitting the silence of her hospital room, his mind raced. Jumping from one thing to another. About everything, about nothing. About how much he loved her and how much he wanted to have the chance to tell her everything. How he was sorry for allowing anyone to hurt her. And how sorry he was for not protecting her.

. . .

As the sun broke through the clouds the leftover nighttime sky, Daryl felt a bit lighter. Beth had a little color to her cheeks, the hospital room itself didn't seem quite so doom and gloom. While generically plain, the walls were a warm yellow, brightened by the light in the large window on the opposite wall of Beth's bed. At some point in the night an orderly came in and washed the rest the gunk from her hair, and wiped her face. The bruises still bloomed purpley green. Daryl dared to think she actually looked better and that it wasn't just his lack of sleep giving him a sense of unheeded optimism.

He hadn't called Maggie yet, knowing as the minutes ticked by, the longer he waited, the harder it would be. He had yet to wrap his brain around how you told someone their sister is lying in hospital bed with a gunshot wound? He had thought of going the cowardly route and calling Glenn instead. That would be a poor decision too. He was no coward. He decided to call her as soon as he got some painkillers into his system to dull the ache in his head.

Daryl stood, kissed Beth on the forehead, leaving her he promised for only a few minutes and made his way to the nurses station. He knew what he really needed was a shower, he had washed off most of the blood, his own as well as Beth's. Even without the agast look of other patients and hospital workers, he knew he looked a fright, still wearing the same blood stained clothes, his head bandaged in the back. Clean clothes seemed trivial when the woman he loved was unconscious in a hospital bed.

The nurse at the desk, who was still there from the night shift, greeted him with a reserved smile. As he approached the nurses station, the nurse, whose badge read Andrea, greeted him. "Oh, hello. Did you get any rest?"

Daryl shook his head, "Na'. My heads pounding, was wondering if I could get anything for it."

"I'm sure we can arrange that. But first, the doctor wanted to speak to you."

"Me?" He questioned. He had lied to them, unapologetically, when questioned earlier just who he was to Beth. He told them they were engaged. If that was the issue, it wouldn't be addressed by the doctor. Would it?

"Yes. Something about Ms. Greene's blood work."

Panic shot through Daryl.

"Oh, here she comes now." Andrea motioned toward the doctor walking down the hallway in a white coat. It wasn't the same doctor as last night. This doctor had short grey hair and a pleasant, confident face. "Doctor, this is "Beth Greene's fiancee. Mr. Dixon, correct?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Daryl."

"Well Daryl, I'm Dr. Peletier, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"What's wrong?" He hated formality and fake pleasantries.

"This way," she motioned to the empty waiting room across the hall.

Dr. Peletier sat in the armchair and Daryl sat on the edge of the sofa, jiggling his knee.

"Tell me," he said without prelude.

"As you were told last night, the surgery was successful. The surgeon was able to stop the bleeding and remove the bullet that sat just above her right hip."

He knew this! "But?"

"But...there was something questionable in her blood work."

What the hell did that mean? "Blood work?"

"Yes. We do a full blood workup on all surgical patients that come through. Checking mostly for common things; anemia and such. One of the things we check in women are their hCG levels. Do you know what that is?"

Daryl bit his thumb nail. "Na."

"It's a hormone called human chorionic gonadotropin. It is produced shortly after implantation and present throughout a pregnancy. Ms. Greene's numbers were quite high." She paused letting it sink in. He still held that confused pissed off look, so she continued. "Which would indicate that she is, in fact, pregnant."

Daryl's head began to pound triple time. "Beth's pregnant?"

"You weren't aware?" There was no judgment in the doctor's tone but her face did register a tiny bit of surprise. She had a sneaking suspicion this was the case. No one had mentioned her being pregnant when she was brought in.

Daryl shook his head in the negative. "I...I uh…" he stammered. "Is the baby…" emotion clogged his throat. "Is the baby okay?"

"Now, because the bullet entered here," the doctor pointed a couple inches to the right of her belly button "and settled just above her hip bone, skimming just under the skin, there is a very good chance it missed the uterus completely."

Daryl felt a sudden protectiveness he was unaware he was capable of. For a baby he had no idea existed up until a few seconds ago. And what if the baby wasn't okay? That would be the end of Beth. Losing two babies, each before she could even raise them.

The doctor placed a hand on his knee, regaining his attention. "Don't get too ahead in your thoughts. We will do an ultrasound as soon as we can get a machine up here. Then, we will go from there."

Daryl could only nod. Dr. Peletier stood and began to walk from the room when he regained his ability to speak, "Doc…"

"Yes?"

"She's already lost one child, she can't lose another."

"I will do everything I can to make sure that won't happen. But, like I said. One step at a time. Give me ten minutes. I will go get the ultrasound machine myself."

"Thanks."

Dr. Peletier nodded and left him alone.

A baby? Daryl felt his world crash inward even more than it already had. He felt himself get up out of the chair and walk out into the hallway. On autopilot, he went to a room he saw as the night before on the way to Beth's room. It barely registered at the time, he remembered it now. He stood outside the door labeled chapel. Putting his hand on the handle, hesitating before pulling it open.

The room was dark compared to the brightly lit hallway. Quiet, hushed. No one else was present in the three pews that sat lined up in the middle of the room. He took a seat in the second row. Feeling uncomfortable he bent his head, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He folded his hands and leaned his aching forehead on them. And, for the first time in his life, he began to pray. He had no idea if God truly existed. He began to pray anyhow. For his Beth and for her baby. _Their_ baby, he corrected. The thought of losing either of them crushed him so deep his chest became heavy with breath that became stuck in his lungs. Why did God give her to him only to take her away? Why would God give them a child, give Beth a second chance, only to take it away? Was it payback for the hell he'd raised throughout his life? He was no angel, never had been, but he promised to make some major changes if only this God so many seemed to believe in would let Beth and that baby live.

* * *

 

Dr. Peletier ran the wand of the ultrasound machine over an unconscious Beth's lower stomach, careful not to touch the incisions from the bullet extraction. All Daryl could make out on the screen were squiggly lines and grey static. His line of vision was bouncing between the doctor and the screen and Beth.

After a moment the doctors face brightened.

"You hear that?" she asked, looking from the screen to Daryl. Carol felt for him. He was obviously scared to death; finding out he was going to be a father on the same day he almost lost the baby's mother.

"That's the baby's heartbeat. Nice and strong."

Relief washed over Daryl, the beating drum of the baby's heartbeat sounded so fast through the small speakers of the ultrasound machine.

Dr. Peletier pointed to the screen, and ran her finger over a curved line. "See this? This is the baby's back bone. This," she ran her finger along a half circle, "is the baby's butt, and leg."

Yes, Daryl could see the outline of a baby now. It's little leg, its little head. Daryl was blown away. There was an actual human being in there. And he or she was moving, kicking. It even appeared to be sucking on its little hand. Overcome with emotion, he looked away from the screen.

Embarrassed, he cleared the lump in his throat and asked, "Everything look okay?"

Carol whipped the goop that she had put on Beth's belly before the ultrasound and took out a fabric measuring tape. She placed one end at the top of her slightly rounded stomach and measured down to the bottom of her stomach. Then, setting the measuring tape aside, she carefully palpated Beth's stomach. Daryl had no idea what she was doing.

"If she is measuring correctly, she looks to be about twelve or thirteen weeks along. Course, that's just a guess. I'm sure there is some residual swelling from the wound. Does that sound about right?"

Three months? Could she of known for this long? And why wouldn't she say anything to him about it?

The Doctor was looking at him expectantly. "Uh, yeah. That sounds about right." He really had no clue. They had never used protection, of any kind. Being out there isolated, it's not like there was general store to run to and, well, if he was being honest with himself, he was just plain irresponsible.

"Everything looks great. Once she wakes up, she will need to come back in for more thorough testing as well as prenatal care. From what I can tell the baby did not suffer any ill effects from Beth being shot."

Daryl felt weak in the knees with relief, so he sat on the edge of Beth's bed, taking her motionless hand in his.

"Someone was really watching over her."

Daryl nodded, agreeing to the fullest.

Later, when the Doctor had left, Daryl took Beth's cell phone from the bag of her things she had on her when they brought her into the hospital. With shaking hands, scrolling through her contacts he found Maggie's name. Taking a deep breath he pushed her name and brought the phone to his ear.

One ring, then two...he didn't know if he should hope for her voice mail or not, but on the third ring she picked up.

"Hey Beth, what's up?" He lost his voice again, uncertain what he should say. _Hey Mag's, it's Daryl. Ya' know, the redneck hick who your sister hardly knows? Yeah, him. Well Beth was shot and now she's unconscious. And, oh yeah, she's pregnant._ He'd bet Maggie would fail see the ridiculousness of the situation and just go straight to hysterics.

"Beth?" Maggie asked when he hesitated.

"Maggie? It's Daryl."

"Daryl?"

"Yes...There's been an accident. Beth, she…"

"What is it? Whats wrong?"

. . .

Maggie insisted on coming straight to the hospital and Daryl was a bit relieved to see her. To have the one other person on this earth that possibly loved Beth as much as he did gave him a bit of comfort. They sat in silence, one on each side of Beth's hospital bed, waiting for her to open her eyes. The words that were not being spoken were filling up the room like heavy toxic smoke.

Guilt was getting the better of him. He blamed himself for this. He figured he should throw Maggie a bone and broke the silence.

"You're probably back to hating me again."

"You're probably right." She spared him a glance before looking back to her phone.

"Can I be honest?"

"Go for it." She said, seemingly uninterested in what he had to say for himself.

"I only need you to like me because of Beth. Normally I couldn't give a shit less what you, or anyone else, thinks of me."

If Maggie was shocked by what he said, the only indication was a raised eyebrow.

"But, if you don't like me, well that affects Beth. I don't want to come between sisters, between family." Laying it all on the line, he figured what did he have to lose. "I love Beth, more than anyone. And Beth loves you. If you hate me, that hurts Beth. You get what I'm saying?"

She did. "No one is good enough for my baby sister."

"I agree." He didn't feel he was good enough for Beth ethier.

And once again they settled into a silence, though, this time it was more of an understanding. For the sake of Beth.

Daryl knew one thing for sure, he was not going to tell Maggie about the baby. He would have to tell Beth first. What a mess, he thought to himself. Maggie had gone down to the cafeteria with Glenn to get some lunch and Daryl found himself alone with Beth again.

Tentatively, he reached his hand out and laid a palm over the blankets on the swell of Beth's middle. He hadn't noticed it was marginally rounder until the doctor pulled aside her gown. Now that he knew she was pregnant it was quite evident. Someone who didn't know her wouldn't of guessed, but to him, someone that had been intimate with her, it was very clear.

Daryl was mesmerized by the fact that she was carrying a child. He never had given much thought to whether he would be a father one day or not. He was beginning to realize how much he did, in fact, want to be a father. It was a gift given to him that he never knew he wanted. To try to do things the right way, the opposite way of his father, and probably his father's father.

He only hoped Beth felt the same way. The thought that she might not want this child put a fear in him that he never felt before. Considering the circumstances, though, what she had been through with Miriam, he wouldn't blame her. The fact remained she was pregnant and he wanted that baby more than anything he'd ever wanted before. They would have to find a way to work it out.

So transfixed he was on her midsection that held their child, Daryl didn't notice when Beth opened her eyes, focusing on him. She was confused as to why he had such a perplexing look on his face and why he was lightly rubbing her why the hell was she in what looked to be a hospital bed.

Then it all started to come back to her, along with the pain radiating from her hip to her arm to her face. She moaned quietly. "Daryl?" Her voice hoarse, her tongue parched and dry.

He snatched his hand back quick as a snake and jumped from his chair. "Beth!"

Then calmer, "Beth. You're awake." He bent and placed a gentle kiss to her brow. "Ya' had me worried."

Beth looked at his disheveled appearance. His messy hair and blood stained clothes. The bandage on the back of his head. She remembered Daryl getting hit in the head. Phillip trying to force her into signing away her house. Then Abraham tackling her to the ground.

Then what happened? A crash. Someone - Rick coming through the screen door, shooting Abraham. Daryl going after Phillip and Phillip going for a gun. Then shooting her.

Dread ran through her and she tried sitting up, more pain radiated through her. She fought against it and the IV's in her arms. A step away from panic.

"Are you okay? Am I? Rick? Was that Rick that came through the door?"

"Whoa, slow down." Her breath was coming in short stops and starts. She looked down as she did when she tried to hold back tears.

Pushing her back lightly with her good shoulder. he said, "Don't worry. Everyone's okay. You're gonna be fine. But you gotta' stay calm, alright?"

He sat next to her on her bed, placing his hands on her face, looking intently into her eyes. Her breathing slowed, the tears stayed in her eyes, but didn't fall.

"I...did..." she didn't know what to say, her voice squeaky with emotion.

"They did surgery on you." Her eyes grew wide. "They were able to remove the bullet. You also had a dislocated shoulder and have a fractured clavicle." That explained the pain in her arm and chest and why she was wearing a brace. The night's events ran over again through her mind.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"About 24 hours. You can't scare me like that again. Ya' here me, girl?"

"Come here." She said, and he moved closer to her. "Closer." He obliged her gladly and stretched out next to her on the hospital bed. A tight fit but neither minded. She rubbed her hand along his face. "What about you? This hurt?" she asked, lightly rubbing her hand along his bandage.

"Ain't nothin'." The last thing he wanted her to do was worry about him. They laid together interlinked, never wanting to let go.

When Beth shifted, she winced in pain, and asked. "Do you think they could give me something for pain?"

"Yeah, I'll go get someone." _Shit._ Could she take the normal painkillers being pregnant? He knew nothing about babies or being pregnant. He did know he had to tell her about the baby. It should come from him, not from the doctor. His mind flashed briefly at the irony of the situation. How many men got to tell the woman that she's pregnant? He hoped one day they could look back on this as a fond memory and not the mind-fuck it was shaping up to be.

"Beth there is something you need to know."

"What? What is it? Is it Rick? Was he hurt?" She would never forgive herself if he was harmed while trying to save her. Among everything else she was feeling, enormous guilt blanketed her body for the way she treated Rick. He was only trying to help and all she did was give him shit. "I should've treated him better…"

"No, Rick is fine."

"Good." She let out a breath. "What then?"

Lacking the right words, Daryl brushed Beth's hair from her face. It was best to just be upfront about this. He couldn't help but worry how she would react, though. Would she be upset? What if she never wanted to have children again? What if she didn't want to be pregnant with his baby? What if she wasn't pregnant with his baby? Those two small words; 'you're pregnant' held ramifications of great magnitude.

Instead he said, "Phillip and Jimmy got away. Rick couldn't find them." Not great news, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her just yet about the pregnancy.

"What?" Alarm sounded on her face, raising her head, the pain in her shoulder forced her to lay back down.

"Take it easy. They are still looking. They will turn up. Till then you have a guard outside of your room. Just as a precaution. Rick saw to that himself."

"Not that you've left my side," Beth guessed. She seemed comforted knowing the guard was there, as well as Daryl.

"Nope." He smiled and laid his lips to hers, softly, sweetly.

Maggie and Glenn entered the room, carrying a to-go Styrofoam container. Maggie stopped mid sentence and practically ran to her sister, "Beth!"

"Careful Maggie, you'll break her." Glenn said, smiling.

"Na', she don't break easy. She's tough." Daryl said, winking at Beth as he regrettably sat up from the bed and stood.

After a while Daryl could see the crease between Beth's eyebrows grow deeper. She was obviously in more and more pain. She was putting on a brave face. It didn't fool him. He stood and made his way to the door. "I'm gonna go see about that pain medication," he announced, leaving them to their reunion, as it were.

Daryl walked through the hospital room door and almost ran smack into Dr. Peletier.

"Daryl. I was just going to check on Ms. Greene. I hear she's awake."

Good news travels fast, Daryl thought.

"Listen, can I talk to you for a second," he asked, walking to the nurses station that was vacated at the moment, the doctor following.

"I need a favor."

"A favor?" He didn't seem the type to ask for favors from anyone, so she was interested in what he had to ask. "Yes?"

"Beth's in pain, she needs some meds."

"Oh okay, that's no problem. I'll just send the nurse in with..."

He interrupted Carol. "Can you hold off on telling...on saying…" he fumbled.

"Telling her she's pregnant?"

"Yeah. Exactly."

"And why would I do that? I would be putting her at risk, wouldn't I?" The doctor didn't seem annoyed, she pursed her lips. Seemingly amused.

"I just thought it should come from me. Not some stranger...no offense."

"None taken. I agree with you. You need to tell her, though. I mean it's in her chart, the nurses know. It's not something you can keep a secret."

The look he gave her was part desperation, part hope. Hope that she would see his side. She was a doctor first and foremost, but she was also a human.

"I have been a Obstetrics doctor for over twenty years and I have never come across a situation quite like this. Surprise twins? Yep. Surprise baby? Yep. Teenage pregnancy? Of course. I thought I'd seen it all. But this? This is new to me. There is no protocol written on what to do about this."

"You gonna' help me out doc? Just let me tell her first."

Carol looked around, for what Daryl wasn't sure. When she brought her eye's back to his, she had a mischievous sparkle in them.

"Okay, you have till the end of my shift. If you haven't told her by then, I will."

Daryl nodded his appreciation. She nodded back. She understood men like him. The least they had to say, the better. Just because he didn't gush his thanks to her didn't mean he didn't feel it.

Now he had to figure out how to get Beth alone so he could tell her.

When he peeked into Beth's room, she and Maggie were in deep conversation. He cleared his throat quietly, gathering Glenn's attention who sat in a chair in the corner, typing on that damn phone of his. He looked up and Daryl motioned him out the door. The sisters didn't even look up as he slipped out the door and into the hallway with Daryl.

Tucking his phone into his back pocket, he explained, "Work. They never leave me alone." The price he paid for being boss man, he supposed.

"I need you get Maggie out of here so I can talk to Beth."

"I don't think that's gonna' happen. Maggie's been worried sick and she was devastated at the idea of almost losing her, there's no way she is…"

"I get that, it's important. Come on man."

Glenn read the urgency in his voice and said "Yeah, sure. I can try."

Back in the room, Glenn cleared his throat, getting Maggie's attention. "Maggie, why don't we go. Give Beth some rest. She'll be out before you know it. I got to get back to work too." Daryl almost flinched at the look Maggie gave Glenn. If looks could kill, Glenn would of been a dead man.

Oh, Daryl knew Glenn would pay for this. He'd owe him for sure.

"I'm not leaving. No way."

"It's fine Maggie. I'm tired." That was the truth. She loved her sister but Maggie's' constant mothering was exhausting. "Hopefully they will give me something stronger than Tylenol soon. Probably will knock me right out."

Maggie hesitated.

"Go, really. Come back later tonight. Sneak me in some real food." That appeased Maggie, Beth's stomach had turned at the site of the cafeteria food they had brought back for her. She couldn't think of even taking a bite of it, much to Maggie's distress.

"Well, okay. But I will be back tonight." Maggie said.

Maggie hugged Beth and curiously hugged Daryl also. Glenn shook Daryl's hand, and leaning in, he said, "You owe me. Big." Daryl smiled, and nodded. He agreed.

Maggie, finally, reluctantly left with Glenn, leaving Beth and Daryl alone.

"The doctor said she'd have someone bring in some pain killers soon."

"Okay. The sooner the better." She said, looking cross.

Daryl sat at the edge of her bed next to her, Beth automatically took his hand in hers. "You should really rest, Daryl. Have you slept at all."

"No. I don't mind."

"So now, are you gonna' tell me what you wanted to tell me earlier but chickened out?"

_Aw, shit._ She knows me too well, he thought to himself.

Laying next to her once again, he dug into his back pocket and took out a picture of the baby from the ultrasound that Dr. Peletier had given him. He had put it in his back pocket, taking it out every so often when no one was around to stare at it in wonderment, or more accurately to stare at it in what-the-fuck-am-I-going-to-do-ment.

"Do you know what this is?" He asked, handing her the picture.

She took it into her unslinged hand. "Its an ultrasound picture." Looking up at him for explanation.

"Yep. That's its backbone," he said pointing out the line of vertebrae just as the doctor had done. "This is its arm, and it's sucking on his...or her hand."

"Daryl, I don't understand…" then a look of realization came to her face.

He asked her the question that's been nagging him all day. "Did you know?"

She sniffled as tears came to her eyes, shook her head. "I thought. Maybe."

"The doctor says you are probably around three months. Three months." he repeated. "Why didn't you say anythin'?"

"A million different reasons, none that are any good."

"You could've told me."

"I know. But I didn't know what to say."

He reached up and brushed a tear away from her cheek. "Why?"

"It might not even be your baby." That was the sentence the broke the dam. Tears flooded from her eyes. Her words vocalized what he, himself, had been thinking.

Hardly able to get the sentence out through her tears, she sniffled, "I really fucked things up this time."

Daryl got up and pulled a chair to her bedside, so he could see her face to face.

"Listen to me, Beth." Refusing to look at him, she continued to stare at the ultrasound picture.

"Damn it, look at me." He cursed his stern voice.

She slowly rose her tear filled eyes to his.

"This baby, as far as I'm concerned, is mine. It doesn't matter to me if it's by blood or by love. This baby is ours. Yours and mine."

"But what about Jimmy, he'll never give up on his kin."

"Neither do I. And you and the baby? You two are my kin."

* * *

 

**PSA: I have no clue about surgical procedures or gunshot wounds or how they would affect being pregnant. lol**


	13. Chapter 13 - Truth and Lies

**Again, I have no idea how a bullet to the side would affect someone being pregnant, so just go with it. lol And obviously, nowadays, the average hospital has everyone's files and charts in a computer system, not in actual files.**

**Thanks so much for reading and all the comments and positive feedback! Let me know what you all think of this chapter. :)**

* * *

Truth and Lies

A lot of men said what their woman wanted to hear. To appease her or make his life easier. This wasn't how Daryl operated. He never said a thing he did not mean. When he said what he said, as far as he was concerned the baby was his, she knew this to be the truth.

Still, for reiteration and her own reassurance, she asked "Are you sure that is what you want?"

"Never been more sure 'bout anythin'." He answered in a way that insinuated it was an easy choice, the easiest he'd ever made. It was all so simple in his mind.

"I can raise the baby fine on my own…" she began, trying to give him an out. Desperately wanting to give him an out if he wanted it. His being involved when he didn't really want to would only cause more problems than it would solve. She'd rather him just back out now.

"I know ya' can. You can do anything. But, I'm not goin' anywhere. I'm afraid you are stuck with me, sweetheart." He smiled sweetly at her, gently pulling her closer.

Beth's head hurt, her arm ached and her incision stung, but her heart was full.

"Is that what you want?" Daryl asked.

Unable to speak through her tears she nodded yes.

Thankful for this chance to have a life he never thought he'd have a chance to live, he laid his brow on her shoulder, putting his hand affectionately over her lower belly. His heart skipped a beat when her hand smoothed over his.

Where all this lovey-dovey bullshit came from Daryl didn't know. His parents never showed affection to one another. Unless you counted when his father would occasionally knock the shit out of his mother. He wondered how he and his brother were even convinced, his parents were never nice to one another. He thought that was the way all families were until he was in his late teens. Even then, he thought no one was ever actually happy in a relationship or marriage. Beth gave him the optimism that happiness was an possible. She brought out the good in him. She brought out the man he should be.

* * *

The hall was still brightly lit, even at 2 a.m. as Jimmy watched through the small window in the empty waiting room across from the nurses station. He hadn't been able to get to Beth. That stupid-ass redneck never left her side. In the off chance he did, it was only when Maggie or that Asian guy was with her. Not to mention the plainclothes police officer that sat is plastic chair outside her room. Beth was never alone.

Jimmy hung out, off and on, day and night. Invisible, he blended into the background of the hub-bub of the busy hospital's surgical ward. No one ever noticed him. His nightly visits were a little bit more difficult to orchestrate. Less people to blend in with. And finding a way in past the security desk at the main entrance proved difficult. He did it, though. Not being caught or questioned once.

Listening for anything said about the patient in room 132. At this point, he was able to overhear that she had been shot and had surgery. That she had a broken clavicle. That she was healing well.

He was mildly impressed. She had always been tough. For a girl.

"So, how was vacation?" The tall blonde nurse, whom he had learned was named Andrea, asked the other nurse. In his vigil in the last few days, Jimmy had not yet seen this other darker haired nurse. Apparently she had been away on vacation as the blonde nurse indicated.

"It was great. So relaxing." The other nurse replied. "Did I miss much here?"

"Actually yes, you did. Patient Greene, room 132?"

"Uh huh?" The nurse leaned against the counter, ready to gossip. "The one with the gunshot wound? I haven't been in there yet tonight."

"Yes. She's pregnant."

"Okay?" The nurse obviously wasn't impressed.

"And she didn't know it. They found out from her blood work. And her fiance got to tell her when she woke up."

"What? That's…."

The nurses chatter faded out as the sound of Jimmy's heart beat in his ears, drowning out all sound. Pregnant? Fiance? Beth was pregnant? And had a fiance?

No, that couldn't be true. They had to be mistaking. Jimmy wasn't a wait and see kind of guy, he had to find out for himself. Waiting for the vacation nurse to go on rounds and for the blonde nurse to go to lunch, leaving the nurses station unattended. He slid soundlessly through the door and behind the nurses station. Fishing out Beth's chart from the stack piled on the desk, he read through the medical jargon, most of which he did not understand. One word did stand out: _pregnant_. Approximately thirteen weeks. Jimmy wracked his brain, trying to think when they had had sex. Shortly before Miriam's birth-date. Around three months ago…

_Son of a bitch..._

* * *

"Ya' ready?" Daryl asked Beth, grabbing her small bag. Then reaching for her good arm to help lift her off the bed.

"My legs aren't broken," she said, internally bristling, smiling to take some of the sting out of her words. She'd been shot, not decapitated after all.

Daryl was being 'helpful'. Maggie was as bad as a helicopter parent. The doctors hovered, the nurses constantly checked in on her. And yes, that was their job. It still irritated her like nails on a chalkboard. She had never been a good patient, even as a child when she would contract the worst of a cold or flu. Everyone was only trying to help, to do their job. So, she continued to bite her tongue.

Beth was as ecstatic as a pregnant woman with a bullet hole in her side and a broken clavicle could be to get back home and to her animals. She missed Echo and Lakota, an irrational part of her worried they would of forgotten who she was by now. She was ready to get back to normal. Well, a new normal.

"Let's go," she said with gusto. Stepping from Daryl, moving to the door before anyone had a chance to help her.

She thought Maggie may force her to move in with her until she was completely healed, but Beth dug in her heels. Though it was a close tie, she was more stubborn than Maggie and Beth refused her offer to stay at the farm until Beth was better.

There was still the threat of Jimmy and Philip, but Rick did not think Phillip would show his face again. He had cleaned out his apartment and drained his bank accounts after what happened at the house. He is probably living the high life in Mexico or someplace similar under one of his many aliases. Jimmy, however, was missing in action.

Strangely enough they bumped into Abraham at the hospital on their way home.

Daryl had led Beth down the hall with a hand on her elbow and stood in front of the elevator doors, waiting for their turn. When the doors opened two policemen stood on either side of Abraham. He was handcuffed, his shoulder was bandaged, in obvious pain and pissed off.

"Leaving so soon, Beth?" He ground out through a clenched jaw, his stare boring through her.

"Yep, goin' home. But, ya'll have fun in jail." Beth snapped back. The air thick with the strain of Abraham's anger, no one said another word until the policeman awkwardly repeatedly pushed button until the doors slid shut.

Beth only became aware that Abraham was in the same hospital as the one she was in at that very moment. Apparently he was being released also. Except he was going straight to jail for breaking and entering as well as assault. And the attempted murder, if the district attorney could make the charges stick, of Dale, who was holding his own in a nursing and rehabilitation center.

"Bastard," she mumbled under her breath while the waited for the next elevator. Daryl smiled, putting his arm around her waist. His girl hadn't lost any of her feistiness throughout this whole ordeal. Thank God.

Abraham was the last thing she would have to worry about. Now she had to worry about Daryl and Maggie over-mothering her. Glenn was the only one to treat her normal, not as though she was a sick child. Daryl had put her to bed. In her own bed. How glorious that felt. To be able to lay her head on her own pillow, covered in her own blankets. Echo, who wasn't normally allowed on the bed, laid down at her feet.

"Really, Beth. When's the last time you washed these blankets?" Maggie gently scolded when she brought her a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup on a tray later that day. Maggie insisted on following Beth and Daryl back to the farm to help out. Help out, or smother. Whichever came first.

Maggie meant well, and the soup smelled wonderful. Being home brought Beth's appetite back full force. Leaning on the headboard, Maggie placed the tray of food in front of her.

She rolled her good shoulder, "I don't know," she said in answer to Maggie's question. Tentatively testing the temperature of the soup before digging in. "Emm, I forgot what a good cook you were."

That mollified Maggie for a second. She was not easily deterred, though, and said, "I can wash them for ya'."

"Na'. It's fine. Really."

Maggie began to interject "But…"

Beth gave her a warning glance over her spoon, "Don't fuss over me Maggie. I am fine."

"Fine?" Maggie scoffed. "You're fine?" Putting her hands on her hips, she began the lecture Beth had been waiting for. "You have a broken clavicle and...oh what else?" Maggie tapped her bottom lip with her finger, feigning a lapse in memory. "Oh yeah! A gunshot wound!" She paced angrily and then began to pile the dirty clothes that were scattered along the floor. Maggie reminded her so much of their mother. Whenever she was angry, which was a lot, she would clean like the president was due for a visit. "But you're fine?" Maggie huffed.

 _Shit,_ there was a little something else Beth had yet to tell her sister. She wasn't' sure how Maggie would take the news of the pregnancy. Beth could tell she still did not care for Daryl. The tension between them was palpable, though they both tried to hide it for Beth's sake.

Suddenly full, Beth sat the tray next to her on the bed and said, "Maggie, please leave my dirty laundry alone, I can take care of that later. I need ta' talk to you."

Maggie stopped fussing with the dirty clothes that were on Beth's floor and sat next to her on the bed. Maggie sat, straightening Beth's blanket.

"Why don't you like Daryl?" She asked point blank. There! That got Maggie's attention and she stopped fussing, looking Beth in the face.

Maggie wasn't expecting that question. "Didn't we already resolve this problem? At my house that day?" They had, but so much had happened since then. Beth had a sneaking suspicion Maggie blamed Daryl for what happened, even though it was completely out of his control. Beth tried not to be cross about this. Emotions usually are not rational.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "You just need to know he's in my life. For the long haul."

Maggie, nodded. "I know."

"But you don't like it?"

"I don't haveta' like it." Maggie thought back to Daryl's words as they watched over Beth lying unconscious in the hospital. He had said " _if you don't like me, well that affects Beth."_ As much as it begrudged her to admit it, he was right. The last thing she wanted to do right now was upset Beth.

"It doesn't matter what I want, Beth. It's your life. It's what you want that matters."

Beth appreciated the effort it took on Maggie's part to say that. She knew it must of cost her a great chunk of pride. Still, it was bullshit. "Ya' really believe that?"

"Yes...well, my brain knows that. My heart is another matter."

"It usually is."

Maggie smiled and wrapped her arms gently around Beth. "I love ya' Beth. I just want you to be safe and happy."

"I will be, and I am."

Maggie pulled back, wiping tears away from her eyes and began to stand but Beth pulled her back down.

"There's something else."

Maggie raised her eyebrows in anticipation. She didn't know if her heart could take much more.

"Remember when we were little and we use to daydream 'bout who would have the most kids, and talk about what we would name them. Whether we would have boys or girls."

Maggie hadn't thought of that in years, smiling at the memory. "Yes. I remember. You would have the boys, and I would have the girls."

"Well…" Beth let the implication hang in the air so thick she was surprised fog didn't surround them.

Maggie looked from her face to where he fingers lay interlinked over her stomach. Beth couldn't quite read her expression. It was somewhere between shock and surprise.

"But, you were shot! In the stomach."

"In my hip, actually. The bullet missed the baby completely." Beth spoke matter-of-factly.

"The bullet missed the baby?" Maggie repeated, then said a little louder. "The bullet missed the baby? Could this situation get any more outrageous?"

Glenn and Daryl sat at the kitchen table eating, looked at one another when Maggie's raised voice came clear from the upper level of the house. A question crossed Glenn's face.

Daryl shrugged, "Beth's pregnant."

"Ahh. Congrats, man."

"Thanks." And they went back to eating their soup and grilled cheese.

In the bedroom, Maggie stood over Beth, making her feel like a child that spilled her milk at the dinner table.

"Maggie, can't ya' just be happy for me?"

"Happy? You want me to be happy for you?"

"Yes," Beth said simply.

Maggie turned her back to Beth. Her heart sank. They dreamed of being mother's and aunt's to each other's children since they were children themselves. The idea of raising a child without her sister being involved brought tears stinging her eyes. Not only did she want Maggie's support, she would need it in the months to come.

When Maggie turned around, though, she had a strange look on her face. One of stillness and emotion. "A baby?" She asked.

"Yep."

Almost diving at her, Maggie enveloped Beth in a hug again. This time not so careful. And that was okay, Beth preferred it that way.

"Congratulations baby sister."

"Congratulations Auntie."

. . .

Daryl peeked around the doorway, he took the quietness that emitted from the room as a good sign. Maggie and Beth sat on the bed speaking quietly to each other and he cleared his throat before entering the room.

Maggie stood to face Daryl. He was in for it now….as she walked to him stopping a few inches in front of him. Instead of laying into him though, she did something that surprised him. She put her arms around him and hugged him. He awkwardly wrapped an arm around her, eyeing Beth over his shoulder. Beth only looked on, smiling.

Maggie whispered, "Welcome to the family Daryl." And she met it.

A strange thing happened to Daryl at that moment. His life took a direct change in course. Whereas before he was aimless. His life seemingly pointless. A few months ago he was wandering around without much purpose. No home, essentially no family. Nothing to call his own except his bow and what he carried in his pack. Now. He had a woman. A baby. _A baby_ \- he still couldn't believe it. And apparently he gained a family as well. That fateful day when he came across a blonde woman sitting on a bridge in the middle of the forest, enjoying the sun, forever changed his life. For the first time he could envision a future; a life.

* * *

Thankfully Maggie didn't insist on staying longer than the day. After being in the hospital for that long week, Beth just wanted to be left alone. Not checked on every fifteen minutes or poked or prodded or asked any questions. She wanted it to be only her and Daryl, who at this moment lay sleeping next to her.

Daryl doted on her. Fixing meals and taking over chores. Even doing laundry. He was so careful with her. Helping her in and out of bed. Wary of her injuries, ever so careful not to touch her, except for an occasional chaste peck on the lips or cheek for fear of hurting her. He was being painstakingly dutiful.

It was driving her mad.

Beth was still the same person she was before. Nothing had changed. Well, except for the baby. That didn't mean she wasn't who she had always been.

Judging by the location of where the moon shone in the black sky through their open window, it had to be well past midnight and sleep eluded her. She scooted over to Daryl. He slept on his back, arm above his head. Sporting that scruffy beard. Beth decided she liked it. She never had seen him completely clean shaven anyway. The beard added to his rugged handsome. Feeling immense affection for this man that lay beside her, the man that stood vigil at her bedside, who treated her so tenderly. She was sure no one in his life had ever treated him with an ounce of tenderness yet it came from him so easily.

Laying on her good side, she placed a damp kiss on the sensitive part of his skin just behind his ear, then two more leading down his neck. He mumbled something illegible before turning onto his side facing Beth, his hand reflexively going to her back, pulling her close. Pressing her face against his chest, she breathed him in. She never thought she'd be able to get the stench of the hospital out of her senses but Daryl's scent was musky and familiar, filling her lungs full. She ran her hand across his bare ribs down to his belly. He moaned, his body waking a few beats before his mind did. His hand grazed her skin, sending a shiver through her. It had been too long since she felt his touch. The passion between them was still very apparent. His hand came to rest at the side of her breast before cupping it, massaging it, pinching her nipple between her fingers. She closed her eyes. He could ignite a fire in her with just a touch. Without realizing it, a moan escaped her throat and his eyes snapped open, pulling back his hand.

"What are you doin'?" He asked, his voice husky with sleep.

"What'd ya' think I'm doin', Daryl?" A mischievous note to her voice, her hand traveling further down his belly to the waistband of his boxers.

He snatched up her hand in his before it could travel any further south. "We can't be doin' that."

Feeling rebuffed, she asked, "And why not?"

"Cause...cause…" he wasn't quite sure why, but it just seemed wrong, like it wasn't the right time. "We just can't. That's why."

Beth frowned, and looked away from him. Her cheeks turning flush from embarrassment or anger. Figuring it was a little of both, he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close again, kissing her forehead.

"Just try 'n go back to sleep."

She could only lay there feeling...she couldn't quite point out what she was feeling. He was worried about her, about hurting her damaged body but she wanted him, damn it.

. . .

It had been a week since she had gotten home from the hospital, and Beth had enough with being in bed. Tired of staring at these four walls, she needed to get out. Needed to be outside in her own element. Carefully, frustratingly slow, she showered, which was no easy feat one handed. But she did it, and feeling like a new woman, she got dressed, placing her sling across her shoulder. She didn't know what the fuss was. Sure her arm and chest were sore but she could move it still with minimal effort. Lastly putting her Glock in its holster on her belt.

When she walked out onto the porch she took in a deep breath. The falling leaves gave the air a sweet scent. Fall was fleeting, giving way to a good cold winter. Welcoming it along with the release of the Georgia heat. The sun was high and warm and the breeze was cool and fresh. Hunting season would begin soon and her mouth watered at the prospect of fresh backstraps for dinner. This year, Daryl would hunt too. Between the two of them they should have no problem filling the freezer. Remembering her arm, she shelved that idea. Maybe later in the season she could hunt. Of course, she would be bigger by then. It made her gitty, and nervous, the idea of being bigger, rounder, with the baby growing inside her.

With her good arm, she smoothed a hand over her belly, feeling the bandages from the gunshot wound that came close to taking the life she carried as well as her own. It was surreal to think back on. Any of them, herself, Daryl, Rick, could've easily lost their lives that night. Thankfully none of them had. And thankfully the baby was just fine, according to the doctor. Life was fragile, but she refused the dwell on what could've happened. They all made it through, and now they had the baby to look forward to. Moving on, figuratively and literally, she made her way toward the barn.

She found Daryl in the barn talking quietly to Lakota.

"Poor girl. Hasn't been ridden in over a week. Maybe I'll take her out today." Beth said, joining Daryl, petting Lakota on her nose. Daryl startled, not expecting her to be out of bed, dressed and outside.

"Maybe you'll do what?" He asked, knowing exactly what she had said.

"What?" She asked, all innocence.

"You can not take Lakota out for a ride."

"And why not?" Beth's temper began to boil. For the last week, more if you include her time in the hospital, Daryl had been tiptoeing around her. Even sleeping as far as he could from her on their little mattress they shared, so as not to inadvertently hurt her.

She understood, he was just trying to be kind, but this was getting ridiculous. "Daryl I most certainly can. I'll be careful."

"Beth," he said in his most condescending voice," you caint."

"I was shot, but I'm not dead."

"You also have a broken clavicle."

"So?"

"So? You can't just go jumping onto the back of horse."

"Last I checked you ain't my daddy…"

"Listen lady. I may not be your daddy but I'm your…"

Beth waited expectantly. He was her what? Boyfriend? That seemed so wrong and juvenile. She was pregnant with his baby. By all pretences they were living like a married couple, though marriage hadn't come up in conversation.

The barn was so quiet, as though the animals picked up on the tension between the two of them, you could hear a pin drop.

With the sound of a truck pulling down the driveway, they both peered out the barn doors as Rick parked his Bronco next to the Scout.

Saved by the bell, or rather, the sheriff.

"Hey Rick," Daryl hollered with a wave, thankful for a time-out on something that was sure to become ugly.

Beth took a deep breath and followed Daryl out of the barn. Rick had stopped in a couple times at the hospital. Beth was never able to really talk with him. He took her statement down, asked her more about Jimmy and their relationship. She was never able to thank him for what he did. They came out of the barn as Rick's wife and son got out of the Bronco as well as Rick.

"Daryl." Rick smiled, nodded. "Beth it's good to see you out an' about. This is my wife, Lori and my son, Carl." Beth put on her polite smile and shook both their hands.

She was taken a bit back when Carl said ,"Nice to meet you ma'am."

"Nice to meet you too. The both of you."

"I brought ya' out some food. Figured ya'll would need a few hot meals." Lori spoke, as she dunked back into the Bronco, pulling out two casserole dishes. "One's chicken and cheese and broccoli casserole, the other is Shepherds Pie. They are frozen, jus' throw them in the oven when you're ready."

"That's great. Thank you Lori," Beth said, slightly baffled by the kind gesture from a virtual stranger.

"How you feelin' Beth?" Rick asked, seemingly relieved to see her up and outside. "Didn't expect to see you out of bed so soon."

"I feel good. Real good actually." She sent a quick but pointed look at Daryl. "Ready to get back to normal life."

"Good, good. Lori wanted to bring you those casseroles and I thought I'd bring her and Carl out. Show them how beautiful it is. Carl was hoping you could help him sight in his bow, ain't that right Carl?" Rick asked his son.

"Yeah," he spoke to his feet. Then looked Daryl in the face. "Yes sir, if ya' could."

"Sure, no problem."

. . .

While Daryl helped Carl sight in his bow, and Lori had excused herself to put the casseroles in the freezer on the back porch, Beth took a deep breath and turning to Rick spoke confidently. Just because she was apologizing didn't mean she had to be passive about it. She was not ashamed.

"Listen, Rick. I need to apologize." He looked genuinely confused. He felt he was the one that should apologize for not doing his job.

"You risked your life for mine. I'm not sure how I can thank you." She put out her hand for his to shake. He looked down to her hand, then back up to her face. Bypassing her hand, he put his arms carefully around her, pulling her in for a hug, surprising Beth. She hugged him back with her good arm.

Daryl stood with Carl, helping him with his bow. Discussing how his stance, the way he positioned his feed, was important while shooting any weapon. Lighting a smoke as he smiled; happy Beth was finally making nice with the Sheriff.

Rick pulled back and said "I will accept your apology, if you accept mine."

"What on earth do you have to 'pologize for?"

"For not doing my job." He held up his hand to stop Beth before she could begin to protest.

"I failed you. I did. I shoulda'..." he wasn't quite sure what he wanted to say. He thought she would never give him the chance to say he was sorry and now here she was apologizing to him.

"I just should've done a lot of things differently."

"I'm still here. Still standing. Wounds heal, bones mend." She said, blowing off a gunshot wound like it was a splinter. Rick was impressed with her bravery. "I will be fine."

And ready for the next time Jimmy shows his face.

. . .

Carl, bow sighted in, was target practicing, aiming at a paper plate stuck to a bale of hay and Lori and Beth were at the horse pen. Lori had always been a sucker for animals. That left Daryl and Rick alone on the porch, grilling up hot dogs for an unexpected lunch.

"Man, I miss these." Rick said, blowing smoke from a cigarette up into the air, looking toward the barn like a teenager sneaking a smoke.

"Why'd ya' quit then?"

"Incase you didn't get the memo, they can cause cancer and a whole other assortment of health issues."

"Oh, that." Daryl scoffed.

"Once we got pregnant with Carl, no more cigarettes."

Daryl looked at the cigarette burning between his fingers. Would he have to quit now?

As though reading his thoughts, Rick stated, "You and Beth...you seem to be getting pretty close." Knowing Daryl hardly left Beth's side this last week, and seeing the ragged, and could he dare say, scared look on one of the most fearless men he knew, just went to show his feelings for Beth.

Daryl couldn't help the smirk that crossed his face. "Yeah, so?"

"So, do you think that's a great idea."

Daryl rolled his shoulders, "I tried to fight it." For about two seconds, Rick didn't need to know that, though. "But, I just couldn't help it. Beth is...great." To sum it up in one word.

"She's great?"

"Yeah, that a problem?"

Serious now, Rick spoke sternly, "You damn well know it could be. Beth _is_ a great girl. But you could be jeopardizing things."

"Fuck that. This is personal now."

"Personal? Listen, just because you got the hots for Beth doesn't mean…"

"You're my friend Rick, we go back a lotta years. But I am warning you right now, choose your next words carefully."

Rick knew when his friend had had enough. He wasn't afraid of Daryl. No, not at all, but he knew when not to push him. He'd never let Rick down before. He trusted Daryl with his life and that had proved to be a wise choice every time.

"Well...if it's not just 'the hots', what is it?"

Finding no reason to bullshit Rick of all people, he said, "She's the one. I ain't never leavin' her or King County again."

Still feeling a bit defensive, Rick asked, "That right?"

"Damn straight."

"Well...congrats I guess." _I'll be damn_ , Rick thought to himself. Imagine that. Daryl. Finding a woman, a good woman by all appearances, to settle down with? Rick resisted the urge to look at the sky to see if pigs were flying alongside the birds. He never thought he'd see the day.

Daryl flicked his smoke onto the pebbles of the walkway, done with the small talk. Leaning forward in his chair, voice hushed, he asked. "So what do you know about Jimmy? Where's he at? I'm sittin' here on my hands to just what? Wait for him whenever the hell he decides to show up?"

"Yes," Rick told him.

"Fuck that shit," Daryl said, pissed. Not at Rick, but at the situation.

"You stay put, Daryl. That's exactly what you need to be doin' incase he does show up. And you knew that was the deal when you took this job, Special Agent Dixon."


	14. Chapter 14 - Means to an End

**Disclaimer: I really have no idea the in's and out's of the army or becoming a special agent.  
** **Thanks for reading and all the awesome comments from the last chapter. I'm glad you all were actually surprised. Hope you enjoy this less surprising chapter.**

* * *

 

Means to an End

On the ride back to town, Rick thought back on his and Daryl's exchange. Daryl's childhood had been less than stellar. What Rick knew was what he heard through the grapevine because Daryl never talked about it. They were friends from preschool on up, they had spent time at Rick's house, or hanging out in town. Driving from one end of the main road that ran through the center of town to the other. Going to parties, getting shitfaced, getting into fights, chasing girls. Them were some good times.

Sometimes, though, Daryl would show up to Rick's house sporting a fresh bruise on his face. Neither would speak of it. No words were needed. Rick knew where it came from and that Daryl just needed a place to lay low for a couple of days. Rick's parents were more than happy to give him a safe haven for however long he needed one.

For as long as Rick could remember, Daryl couldn't wait to get out of King County and away from Georgia and everyone in it. As soon as possible. And he did just that, joining the army the day he turned 18. He was out of here, like a bat out of hell. And Rick gladly followed him. There wasn't much King County, Georgia had to offer a young man fresh out of high school anyway.

They went through basic training together, somehow were stationed at the same base camp and were sent overseas to Afghanistan shortly thereafter. They fought alongside each other. Each would've gladly given their own life for the other without so much of a blink of an eye.

Linked by that unquestionable, unbreakable bond they were brothers. Always would be.

When their tour was up, young and dumb, they reupped. When the third time came around, Rick was done with it and ready to go back home. Settle down, move on with his life. Daryl wasn't and chose to make a career in the army. And they parted ways. Daryl worked his way up through the army and then, when he grew tired of that, into police work of all things. Eventually becoming a special agent.

Daryl was good at it, too. Drifting from one place to the next. From one assignment to the next. Never staying in one place long enough to put down roots. Never getting too close to anyone or any place. Being a special agent made it possible for him to do this while making a decent living. The drifter pseudonym he created when he met Beth really wasn't too off the mark.

Rick had came back home, going through an assortment of jobs, finally landing in law enforcement himself. Settling down with Lori, having Carl. He was happy where he was at in life. It wasn't perfect, but it was the life for him.

When he and Daryl reconnected years later, Rick still couldn't quite believe the hellraiser he grew up with had become a decorated captain in the army and chose the career path he did. His old friend was changed, of course. Daryl had grown up, became more mellow. More quiet, if that was possible.

It was very serendipitous timing. Daryl had just retired from the FBI and was again, or still, floating through life, when Rick knew he was over his head and did not have the manpower to chase after Blake - a man terrorizing a whole community of people - he called in a favor from an old friend. Daryl hesitated, of course, not wanting to come back to King County or the land he grew up on. Their friendship had spanned decades and they had always helped each other no matter what. No questions asked. If Daryl ever needed anything Rick would be there in a drop of a hat. So, reluctantly, Daryl agreed to help Rick out. Hours later he landed in Atlanta on the red-eye, from who knew where, looking like shit. Rick telling him so.

The day after that, Daryl "just so happened" to come across Beth in the woods. Rick had no idea how he found her so quickly and easily. He dropped him off at the foot of the property with a vague description of Beth and general directions, which were not needed. He was familiar with the land, and the man had a built in compass. He could find his way out of the blackest tunnel.

Neither man had any idea Beth would be so willing to take him in, but it worked in their favor. Playing it cool the first time Blake and Jimmy came sniffing around, gaining ground on the situation. He couldn't blow his cover so quickly. They needed proof of their harassment.

And as time went on, he and Beth had apparently become close.

Rick eyed Carl in the rearview mirror. He seemed happy to have his bow sighted in and a promise from Daryl to take him hunting next month. Lori, sat in the passenger seat, looking out the window.

Trying for simple dialogue, nothing serious. These days it took the slightest little thing to set them off into a full blown argument, he cleared his throat and spoke, "So what'd you think?"

Lori looked at him, a question in her eyes. "Of what?"

"The land. Beautiful out there, ain't it?"

"Very. So what is Daryl and Beth's story?" Lori asked, changing the subject.

"What'd ya' mean?"

"They are together, right?" Only a fool couldn't tell they cared for each other.

"Yeah, they are together."

"And he just happened to come across her in the woods?"

Rick told Lori very little of his job, and Lori knew not to ask, most of it being confidential. He had to tread lightly, so he introduced Daryl as a friend, not former childhood friend turned special agent.

"Yep. Guess so." Rick wasn't comfortable lying to Lori, especially since their relationship was so fragile. It had to be done though. He couldn't risk blowing Daryl's cover.

"And she just let him into her house?"

"Gee Lori, I can't imagine what you think about that," Rick stated sarcastically.

"No, that's not it at all...I'm jus' curious about them, is all."

"He was sleeping in the office quarters of the barn. Then at some point moved into her bed."

Lori couldn't say she blamed Beth. Daryl was the epitome of masculinity with his tall, broad shouldered, muscular stature and strong-featured cheek bones. Any woman with blood running through her veins would have to be blind to not notice Daryl.

"You know Beth's pregnant, right?"

So shocked Rick was that he jerked his eyes to Lori, swerving off the road, then over corrected into the other lane before he returning control to the Bronco.

"So, you didn't know?" Lori asked the obvious. "Men, they don't talk about nothin'."

"No, Daryl didn't say anything to me. How do you know?"

"Beth told me." Lori gave him a "Duh" look. "But I could tell. So I just directed the conversation to relationships and marriage and babies. I think she wanted to tell someone."

"Well lucky you were there to drag it outta her." Rick joked, sending her a wink across the vehicle. Inside, though, he was hurt. Why didn't his friend feel he could tell him? As Daryl said earlier, it wasn't business any longer. It was personal.

"So, did you enjoy your cigarette?"

Confounded by his wife ability to sense such things, he shot Lori a subdued look.

* * *

Beth sat impatiently waiting in Dr. Carol Peletier office. Foot jiggling, looking at her phone every few minutes checking the time, thumbing through a magazine without really reading the articles or looking at the pictures. They had already been to the surgeon. Her wound was healing nicely and he removed the three stitches in her incision, which itched like crazy. They had also been to the grocery and feed stores. Beth was ready to be home. They had one more stop and that was the OBGYN's office.

"Would ya' calm down?" Daryl asked her, patting her knee to stop her shaking. "Why ya' so nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," she lied.

"You've met Dr. Peletier before."

"I know." She began to chew her thumb nail. "I just don't like being poked and prodded at, like I'm cattle or something."

"Cattle?" Daryl chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulders.

Beth was beyond panic. What if the Doctor could tell exactly how far along she was and they found out today that the baby was indeed Jimmy's. What then? Sure, Daryl had claimed to love the baby no matter whose it was. As far as he was concerned the baby was his and Beth's, but what if he felt differently if they found out for a fact it wasn't his. Deep down she knew she was being overdramatic. The thought still frightened her, nonetheless.

Daryl, in his calm manner, arm around her resting it on the back of her chair, pulled her close. Placing a brief kiss to the top of his head, he reassured her, "It's gonna' be okay."

She only hoped he was right.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Carol herself came from the closed doorway to the right of the room. "Beth. Ya' ready?"

"Yep," she said as she stood, then noticed Daryl remained sitting. She looked at him confused. "Ain't ya' coming?"

"Na' I'll wait…" He didn't know what happened behind the doors of such appointments, and really didn't want to find out.

Seeing the exchange between the two, and the quick moment of panic crossing Beth's face, Carol suggested, "Why don't we go on back, Beth. Then, I can call for Daryl when we are done with your exam. Sound good?"

"Yeah, alright." Beth agreed. Still uneasy, she went through the door leading to the examination rooms.

. . .

When Carol was finishing up the exam and they had gone through the medical history of Beth's pregnancy and the death of Miriam. Carol reassured her that there was no reason to believe this baby would suffer the same outcome as Miriam did. What happened with Miriam was just a tragic circumstance, not at all genetic. The reassurance from the doctor helped ease Beth's mind.

Carol took from her pocket a cloth measuring tape and measured Beth's belly.

"Can you tell how far along I am?"

"Well judging from the ultrasound I did at the hospital and by the measurements of your belly, I'd say 15 or 16 weeks. But, since you don't remember when your last cycle was, its only a guess. An educated guess, but still just a guess. There's an old wives tale that says when you feel the baby's first movements you are about half way through. So, keep that in mind."

Marking down the measurements in Beth's chart, Carol continued, "You've grown a bit since the last time I measured you in the hospital. Which is a good thing." Carol smiled down at Beth, wondering what the worried look on her face was all about.

She rolled the tape measurer back up and allowed Beth to sit up. Carol sat on the little round stool next to the examination table.

"Before we bring Daryl in do you have any questions? Any other concerns?"

Beth looked down at her intertwined fingers that sat in her lap. Carol took that moment to look her over. She didn't look so tough now. She looked like a scared mom-to-be. Carol put her hand on Beth's gowned knee and said, "You can tell me anything, ya' know. Ask me anything. I am here for you and the baby. Anything you tell me does not leave this room."

Beth took a steadying breath and before she had a chance to change her mind, she blurted, "The baby might not be Daryl's."

If Carol was shocked by this she did not let on. She patted Beth's knee and said, "Does Daryl know this?"

Beth nodded, "He says it doesn't matter. That it's his baby as far as he is concerned." She had no idea why she was telling Carol, a virtual stranger, her deepest secret. The heaviness that she had been carrying around did start to lift from her chest the tiniest bit, though.

"Sounds like a good man to me."

Beth knew this to be true.

"There is testing we can do, after the baby is born, to find out who the father is…" Carol put out there. "Incase you really want to know."

The thought put the fear of God into Beth. She wanted so badly for the baby to be Daryl's. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to make it become a reality. And did she really want to know? Did it really matter? There was no way she would allow Jimmy within miles of the baby. She would personally make sure of that. She realized then and there, as long as the baby was born healthy, that's all that mattered.

"No, it doesn't matter." Beth told Carol. "It's Daryl's either way."

"This guy, that might be the father, is?

"Not a good person. He's dangerous."

Carol knew doctors are suppose to keep a non-personal relationship with patients. Be polite. But not too police. Nice. But not too nice. Sympathetic. But not too sympathetic. She couldn't help but feel for Beth. She felt a connection with her.

"When I was younger, I was married to a man. We have a daughter, Sophia. She is almost grown now," Carol smiled, a far off look on her face thinking how the old adage was so true; time does fly.

"Her father was not a good guy." A frown replaced the smile. "Hindsight being what it is, if I had to do that over I would of taken Sophia and ran. Far." She left out how she did leave once, going went back to Ed the next day, only to be beaten once again.

"You do what's best for your child. If that other man is no good, then you keep this baby far, far from him. Do you understand where I'm going with this?"

Beth nodded. It must of been the damn pregnancy hormones because her eyes filled with tears.

"Alright. If you change your mind then…"

Beth looked Carol in the eyes, "That won't happen."

"Good girl. Now that that's settled, any other questions?"

"Yeah, I have a question" She said, drying her tears with the back of her hand. "Why am I so mad at Daryl all the time?" Beth asked, partly joking.

Carol laughed, "That sounds completely normal to me."

Beth wasn't sure if it was because they were finally on their way home or the conversation she had with Carol but she felt immensely better. After their discussion Carol had called Daryl into the tiny room, where he stood, stiff and nervous at Beth's side. Carol ran the wand of the fetal heart monitor over her belly in search of the baby's heartbeat. And once she found it, that constant rhythmic bump-bump-bump sound, Beth allowed her gaze to land on Daryl's face. His eyes grew wide with excitement.

"It's so fast," he marveled again, wondering if it was that fast at the hospital or was he hearing things.

Carol nodded. "Yep, 150 beats per minutes is average. Your little guy or girl is at about 154. Perfect."

Daryl leaned his head down to Beth's and placed a sweet soft kiss to her mouth and then placing his mouth at her ear he whispered, "I bet it's a girl."

. . .

Beth reached her arm across the bucket seats of the Scout and ran her fingers from the back of his neck up to his hair. "I love you, ya know." She wasn't sure when the last time she said it was. In the hospital probably, but that seemed like eons ago.

He gave her that half smile that turned her heart to mush. "Ya sure about that?"

"Uh huh."

They pulled down the long driveway and when Daryl put the jeep into park he sat for a moment without moving or speaking. Hand on the door handle, Beth looked him over.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I'm sorry, Beth."

She gave him a small smile. "What for?"

"For not protecting you better."

"That's jus' silly. You did what you could, more than what the average person would do." She leaned over, placing a hand on his bearded face, touching her lips to his. "It's my fault. It wasn't your ex-husband that was there that night, was it?" She joked, trying to get him to relax and let go of the guilt he held on to.

"But still, Beth. If that bullet would of hit you in any other way...if anything ever happened to you, or the baby. I don't know what I would do."

"It didn't though. And nothing is going to happen to us," she said confidently.

He nodded his agreement. "I won't let it. I'll always look after you."

* * *

"Yeah, they just pulled up." Jimmy, hidden by the ticket of trees behind the barn, spoke quietly into his cell phone.

Philip's voice fuzzed in and out as he spoke, "You need to find a way to get to her."

"The redneck is always with her. Makes it difficult."

"Need I remind you you owe me. She owes me. No one uproots my life and gets away with it. Now, do what I say." Phillip snapped.

"I will. I'm just sayin'..."

"Say what you want…"

Jimmy felt sweat begin to prickle on his skin in anger. He was sure life wasn't so bad in Mexico or Tahiti or wherever the hell Philip ran off too. Phillip did pay him, a hefty amount to persuade Beth into selling her land, and now he wanted revenge. Jimmy had no plans of doing this for Phillip, though. This was about him and Beth, and the baby she carried. Philip Blake was just a means to an end.

* * *

Once inside, Daryl sat down on the couch of the living room, running his hand through his hair. The relief he felt knowing the baby seemed to be fine was immense, yet the stress of almost losing Beth and then the baby was catching up to him.

Watching him lay his head back on the couch, he looked exhausted. The last few weeks were obviously weighing on him. Straddling his lap, still wearing a sling, she wrapped one hand behind his neck, massaging lightly. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Jus' try not to think about what might of happened. Everything worked out. I'm fine. The baby is fine. You heard his heartbeat."

"C'mere." he groaned. The memories of that night flooded back and he slipped his arms around her. Leaning forward, those emotions poured through his lips the moment he laid his mouth to hers. His lips were firm and warm, with just a hint of the impatientness as he angled his head, taking the kiss deeper. His arms remained gentle around her hips, his touch light. Yet, deep inside him she sensed a volcano simmering and hot. They hadn't touched in over two weeks, but it felt like months, years even.

Her touch, as her fingers trailed down his shirt, triggered the need he tried desperately to stuff away, and his arms tightened around her and his mouth crushed down on hers. She responded with a moan he barely registered, with a shudder that reverberated through her into him.

He had wanted her before, had _had_ her before. Why then, did this feel like a completely new experience? He'd known her intimate softness, tasted her sweetness. This was a whole new encounter, like the first time. He took his mouth on a slow, seeking journey over her face, along her jawline, down her throat. Drinking her in. His hands, tough and calloused, slipped under her shirt, then roamed upward.

At first the slender line of her back, slightly bent leaning into him, was enough. His hands on her skin, it was all he needed. Then the need to touch, to possess every inch of her body grew sharper. Holding up her shirt, he slid his hand around to cup, then taste, her breast. The first touch made her catch her breath, pulling air in quickly, then letting it out again, rolling her eyes closed. This was what she wanted, to be his in every way, in all ways. He effortlessly lifted her off his lap and into his arms, carefully carrying her up to their bedroom.

Gently, he laid her down on the bed, and the confusion, the doubts, the fears, drained away. No memories intruded when he held her close. No whispers of the past nagged him. There was only him and her, and the promise of a new life and a lasting love. Looking down on her, the angel again, with a fall of blond waves instead of a halo.

"You're beautiful."

Laying a hand on his chest, she felt his muscles tighten. He ever so gently, helped her out of her arm sling, then pulled her shirt over her head. He slid his hands up to her shoulders so that his fingers brushed over the thin straps of her bra. It was only the press of lips upon lips, but her blood began to pound. The stirring he could cause so easily started in her stomach and spread throughout her body.

Growing impatient, she pulled his shirt over his head, and deftly for a person with the use of only one arm, and made quick work of his belt buckle and zipper. He pushed them down off the bed before returning to her mouth. As the kiss deepened, as the intimacy grew, she didn't think of anyone but him.

She tasted as she had the very first time, ripe and fresh. With his tongue he plundered her mouth, greedy for the investable release her body offered him. He could hear her shuddering breath, and the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the downstairs family room. It was dark, it was quiet, they were alone. And tonight he would take her again, yet for the first time as the mother to his child.

She stroked her hand over his bare back, feeling the muscle, the power. She wondered in the back of her mind how anyone with such strength could be so gentle. His lips brushed over hers, testing, almost teasing, before roaming over her shoulders and down the curve of her body, over the fading bruises that spotted her chest, down to her breast, then up again.

She was so responsive. Her body seemed to ebb and flow at the touch of his hands. Wherever he touched her, her skin would heat. He had never known there could be such sensitivity between a man and a woman. He had, needed, to have her naked, bare skin to bare skin and he quickly rid her of the rest of her clothes.

As desperate as he, she opened for him. When he plunged into her, the shock vibrated, wave after wave. Fast and furious, they locked into their own rhythm, each driving the other. To the endless pleasure, they both seeked.

If she was in any pain, she was not letting on as she rolled Daryl onto his back, he still buried deep inside of her. "Beth, wait. What about your arm?" He asked breathless, holding desperately onto a tiny bit of reality. Foggily remembering her injuries.

"Daryl, I'm fine," she said for the last time. Bending over him she placed a kiss to his lips, before leaning back up, using her good arm and his chest as leverage. Then, she began riding him. Her body still narrowed at the waist, but her belly protruded adorably outward. Her breasts were heavy, swollen and sensitive when he cupped them. Her hair was long and mussed cascaded down her back. Her head fell back in utter ecstasy. His own beautiful goddess. So tight, so wet. All for him. Leaning up, looking her dead center in the eyes, hoarsely he said, "Baby, I could cum just lookin' at you."

He loved her so sweetly. He touched her so gently. His whispers were pushing her towards the edge. And that was half of the turn on. It was easy, so easy to give herself to him. To let the strength of his feelings carry her along. And she gave him all she had. With her climax came the release and peace she had been longing for since that fateful night she was shot.

Warm, liquid, achingly sweet desire poured from Daryl. Afterward, out of breath, cradling Beth's back against his front, he wondered why he ever refused her. Yes, she was hurt and bruised and pregnant, all of which he wasn't sure how to handle. But, he made a promise to himself to never, never, refuse her again. Nuzzling her ear, he whispered, "I love you, Beth."


	15. Chapter 15 - Double-Edged Sword

**More fluff. Thanks so so so much for reading/commenting.**  

* * *

 Double-Edged Sword

Maggie and Glenn decided on a small wedding at a country club Glenn's firm owned, then a reception to follow in the dining hall of the club. It was a castle like building on the bluff of a large man-made lake. Old and stately, it did not resemble a country club at all. The brick structure was built by a tobacco farmer turned millionaire at the turn of the century. A bit ostentatious, it was beautiful just the same.

Beth was excited for her sister. Not so excited about having to wear a dress, though. Five months pregnant and counting; getting bigger and bigger everyday. Daryl didn't seem to mind, which made it a tad bit more bearable. It was an experience, being pregnant. Nothing had ever frightened and excited her more at the same time before. She pulled the spaghetti strap cream colored floor length dress over her head, thanking the fashion Gods for stretchy fabric. The dress was flowing but was still a bit taut over her belly. She picked it out over a month ago when she and Maggie went shopping, it was loose then. Not so much now.

Luckily Maggie didn't care what she wore, just as long as it didn't include flannel or her worn out cowboy boots. Or jeans. She also had to buy sandals, because all she owned were the old cowboy boots. She was healed enough to feel she didn't need the shoulder sling that much any longer. And could get away without it for the wedding. Maggie would've loved that, a blue sling accentuating her attire. It could've been Maggie's something blue, Beth chuckled to herself.

"What are you snickerin' about?" Maggie asked as she came out of the bathroom of the back room they had commandeered for their use to get ready for the wedding. Maggie's wedding dress was simple. Silk to the floor, sparkling white. She wore a long vale down the length of her back.

"Nothin, nothin'. Wow, sis. You look beautiful."

"In this old thing?" Maggie joked, angling her body and placing a hand on her hip. Knowing if she didn't joke, they would both cry.

"You look great too." Maggie said, she hadn't noticed how much rounder Beth was getting until that moment. It wasn't as noticeable in her regular clothing as it was in the dress. A stab of envy and excitement shot through Maggie. She couldn't wait to become an aunt. Then, hopefully one day soon, she and Glenn would be next.

"Pfftt...I'm as big as house."

"Aw, na' you're not. Not yet anyhow." Maggie joked, elbowing Beth.

"Gee thanks, Maggie." Beth put her arm around her sister's waist and looked at their reflection in the mirror. It made Beth think back to when they were children, just girls in pigtails running around in the woods. Arguing, fighting for and against one another, avoiding their parents. Just being sisters. So much time had passed and now they were grown. One getting married, the other due to have a baby.

. . .

Beth walked down the aisle, holding a bouquet of white roses low over her belly, hoping it would hide it a little. Praying she wouldn't trip in her new shoes. Looking sharp in his black suit and white silk tie, Glenn stood tall, and if Beth wasn't mistaking, tears shimmered in his eyes. Giving him a wide smile, she settled in her spot to the left of the pulpit. Beth took a deep breath and found Daryl in the second pew of the bride's side. He looked handsome wearing a new button up black shirt and straight leg Wranglers laying low on his hips. He must of sensed her looking at him because his eyes found hers and he sent her that crooked grin and wink, making her officially weak in the knees. It was astounding, how he could do that with only a look.

Maggie opted to walk herself down the aisle. No man would ever replace their fathers spot in that position. And she did so with her chin held high, eyes dry focused on Glenn. As she made it to the end of the aisle, she linked her arm with Glenn's before facing the Pastor.

Pride filled Beth's heart. For Maggie, as well as Glenn. He was a good man and would make a great husband. She would never have to worry about her sister the way Maggie undoubtedly worried about Beth when she was married to Jimmy. Glenn, like Daryl, would always care for her and love her. Always treat her right.

"Dearly Beloved…" The minister began. And here it was, the official start of Glenn and Maggie's life together.

. . .

The dining hall of the country club was transformed into a white, sparkly, tulle filled, magical place. It was small, intimate, only five large round tables draped in white tablecloths stood in the center of the room. Candles lit the room, giving off a yellow sunset glow to the room. A mix of white roses and hydrangeas were centered in opaque circular vases on the tables, their fragrance wafting throughout the room.

Maggie had said she didn't have to deliver a speech if she didn't want to. Beth was her Maid of Honor, a position she took with care. So, after the best man made his speech about his and Glenn's wild college days Beth stood and began to speak.

"Hey everyone." Beth began, and hated the flush of red that bit her cheeks. She never liked being the center of attention. Never liked public speaking, but this was for her sister and she had something to say.

"I'm Beth, Maggie's sister, I just wanted to say a few words."

All she had to do was say something warm and fuzzy. Something profound and dignified. Something they will remember the rest of their lives. No pressure, at all.

Now the only thing that came to mind was how she told Maggie she was pregnant and how she was upset and worried, how Maggie still loved her unconditionally.

"When Maggie and I were young, much younger than we are today. Did I mention I was the baby sister?" She asked, earning polite chuckles from the guests. "When we were young we were pretty competitive. Maggie always had to be first, always had to have the last word, always had to be right." She said, all in good nature. "Guess not much has changed, right Glenn?" More polite chuckles and Glenn nodded his head in agreement. Maggie swung playfully at his arm.

"We would daydream. Or fight. About everything. About who would get married first, and who would have children first. She beat me to the altar, but I beat her to having babies." Beth stood sideways, showing off her belly. Everyone aww-ed.

"I was so scared to tell her I was pregnant. I didn't want her to be disappointed in me. Which was silly, of course. There is nothing stronger than the love I for my sister. There is nothing I could do to disappoint her. We love eachother unconditionally, as only sisters can." Beth looked over at Maggie. "I love you Maggie," tears fell from Maggie's eyes, and she unabashedly let them run down her cheeks.

"No love is greater than sisters except maybe that of husband and wife." Unconsciously her eyes went to Daryl. Is that what she wanted? Marriage? The idea momentarily staggered her. Swallowing hard, she quickly looked back to Maggie and Glenn.

"And I'm so happy you found a good man, a good husband in Glenn. And Glenn," she said, moving her eyes to him, his arm wound tightly around Maggie's shoulders, "I am proud to call you my brother. Welcome to our family." Glenn beamed and rose his champagne glass in toast to Beth. She smiled back, wiping tears from her own cheeks. "These damn, pregnancy hormones." Everyone hooted and clapped as Beth wound her way around the table to embrace the both of them. Grasping Maggie a little longer.

They had been technically adults for a long time, each going their own ways, doing their own thing, but there was something so permanent about marriage that said you were finally an adult. It was silly to think Maggie would no longer need her sister, still a part of her, the irrational pregnant part of her, was worried that's exactly what would happen. Finally she let go and excused herself to the bathroom to gather herself before the dinner was served.

. . .

Later, Beth sat at the round table reserved for the wedding party, gratefully slipping her achy and swollen feet out of her sandals. She bent to rub them as one of Glenn's sisters plopped down in the chair next to her.

"I don't think we've met yet, I'm Sarah. Number 4 of the 5 daughters." Beth found out that day that Glenn had a big family. Five sisters, and then baby Glenn.

"Nice to meet you number 4," Beth joked. "I'm Beth."

Sarah laughed. She was, as were all of Glenn's sisters, beautiful. Jet black, straight hair with wonderfully high cheekbones, as well as a long tone body, making Beth feel short and squat. "Right, I loved your toast."

"Thanks, I kinda winged it."

"It was very nice, you did a good job."

"Thanks", she said again.

"How much longer?" Sarah asked, motioning to her belly.

"Umm…" Beth was still not used to random people asking her about her pregnancy. A round belly attracted the attention of strangers more often than her slinged arm had. Everyone loved to point out Beth's rounding abdomen, from the clerk at the feed mill to Glenn's sister, apparently. She really didn't mind. As time went on, the more she enjoyed talking about the baby. 

"Almost 4 months to go."

"That's exciting. Is the man you were sitting with your husband? He is handsome, no?" Sarah asked.

Beth looked around the room for Daryl, he was nowhere to be seen. Probably out back having a smoke. "Oh, yeah. We aren't married."

Sarah didn't seem was embarrassed about her misstep. "Well, that's okay. What does he do for work?"

"He helps me. I own a small farm, out in the country a-ways," of which she was terribly homesick for. She and Maggie kicked Glenn out of the house the night before holding onto the old tradition of the groom not seeing the bride until she walks down the aisle. Having a sisters night, just the two of them. Being away from home for two days now was exhausting, she could almost hear her bed calling her name.

"Really?" Sarah was taken aback. "He doesn't work?"

Beth was beginning to feel uncomfortable, "He doesn't have a traditional job, no. But we have all kinds of animals. Some land that requires daily tending."

"What did he do before that?"

It was an easy enough question, one that was none of Sarah's business, nevertheless it bothered Beth more that she, herself, did not know the answer.

"Uhh,"

Suddenly Daryl's hand clasped over Beth's shoulder. Relief shot through her veins as he said " 'Scuse me, but Maggie needs your help."

"Sorry, Sarah. Duty calls." Beth said. Grimacing, she slipped her feet back into her shoes, standing from chair. She couldn't get away from Sarah and her drill of questions fast enough.

Daryl took her by the elbow as he walked her to the hallway that held the restrooms. She had no idea what Daryl overheard, if anything. So she said, "Thanks for letting me know Maggie needed me."

Before she could make a break into the bathroom, Daryl grabbed her by the elbow. "Not so fast. Maggie doesn't need you."

Perplexed, she asked, "Huh?"

" _I_ needed you."

Before she could question him again, catching her off guard his lips found hers. Crushing down on her, she stepped back leaning against the wall. Going with it, her arms came up around his neck pulling him closer. Unabashed and unconcerned about being caught, his hands skimmed the smoothness of her hips and up rounding her protruding belly, brushing the sides of her breast, clasping lightly around her neck. His thumb held her jaw in place, right where he needed it.

Damn, Beth was ready to ditch the rest of the reception and head home with Daryl right then, but regrettably he pulled away.

Breathlessly, she asked, "What was that for?"

He looked at her in a way that made her body ache for him. "You looked like you needed savin' from Sarah. She cornered me a while ago. Nosey one, she is." He lightly kissed her lips again, then each cheek. " 'Sides, you jus' look so damn good. Been tryin' to keep my hands off you all night, couldn't do it anymore."

"Oh," was all she could formulate into words before he strode off down the hall and back into the dining room.

* * *

After seeing Glenn and Maggie off for their honeymoon island hopping in the Caribbean, her and Daryl had a quiet ride back home. He went straight to the barn to check the animals and she went into the bathroom. Beth showered away the makeup and hairspray Maggie had forced on her. Feeling like herself again, she stood in the bathroom staring at her changing body in the full length mirror attached to the back of the door. Her belly was round, you could tell she was definitely pregnant now, no denying it, even if she wanted to. She expected that. What she didn't expect, however, was that her butt was bigger as well, and her breasts were swollen and sore. Yes, she had been through this before when she was pregnant with Miriam. She was a teenager then. Older now, her body carried this pregnancy differently. This time the whole situation was different.

Everything was different. Totally different circumstances. She was a total different person. Daryl was different than Jimmy as well. He was excited about the baby and the impending outcome. He seemed to love her changing body. Every night they fell asleep, his hand lying protectively over her growing belly. She blamed the tears that came to her eyes on exhaustion and took a deep accepting breath, pulling her night shirt over her head.

Daryl wasn't in the bedroom or living room so she followed the scent of cigarette smoke wafting in from the kitchen screen door. She watched him for a moment in the glow of the porch light. He stood on the top step looking out into the blackness of the night. The clouds covered the normally starry sky and hid the full moon that should've been out. Beth couldn't shake the feeling that he was beginning to feel restless. She had no idea what he did before the day he appeared on her bridge, but he was obviously a drifter with a wanderer's soul.

Sarah's questions nagged her. Daryl knew plenty about Beth; how her daddy was an alcoholic but he was still a great father and how she had loved him fiercely. He knew what made her tick, the fierce love and protection she feels for those she cares about. He knew about Miriam. He knew how to touch Beth just so to make her involuntarily moan. He knew more about her than anyone else. That didn't change the fact that she knew little about him.

It was about time to change that.

She opened the screen door, it screeching on its hinges. He looked over his shoulder and immediately flicked the smoke out onto the walkway, it's orange tip sending a spear of light to the ground. She had noticed he no longer smoked around her.

"Hey," she said as she wrapped her arms around his waist, her belly pressing against his hip bone.

He ran a hand down her hair that was almost, thanks to prenatal vitamins that he and Carol insisted she take, down to her butt.

"Hey yourself."

"You looked so handsome today." She loved him in his worn out jeans and t-shirts, or better yet no shirt at all, but today all cleaned up he looked downright dapper. 

"You didn't look so bad yourself. Damn beautiful, actually."

That made her smile, she felt like a giant oaf in that dress.

They stood arms wrapped around each other, staring off into the inky blackness of the night when she finally got the nerve to ask.

"Daryl? Can I ask ya' somthin'?"

He answered with a nod of his head.

Here goes nothing.

"Tell me about your daddy, and your brother. Meryl is his name, right? And your mom."

He gazed down at her, a look of bewilderment on his face. "What brought that on?"

"I don't know...I guess being at the wedding today and seeing all of Glenn's family. And then on my side it's just me and Maggie pretty much. It looks like it's just you on your side too. Kinda' makes me sad for this baby." She looked down at her belly, putting a hand over it. "No Grandma or Grandpa. No cousins…"

"Don't do that to yo'self, Beth. The baby has us. Maggie and Glenn will have kids one day. He or she will have plenty of family."

This was true, but... "I still want to hear about you and how you grew up. What you did before you just stumbled into my life." Daryl pulled away, the heat he took with him left her feeling chilled. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

She, rightfully so, was questioning him about his past. He knew he had to come clean, and soon. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to tell her that he was in actuality a special agent, that he didn't just come across her in the woods by happenstance. He leaned on the porch post and looked over at her. She was absolutely beautiful; round with child, hair like goddess spanning past her shoulders, cheeks pink with the last of the summer's sun. He never knew a pregnant woman could be so sexy.

"Believe me, you are better off not knowing 'bout my family," he said, purposefully speaking of his family life and not his recent past as an agent.

She eyed him intently. "Sometimes you get this look on your face. Like you're about to say something, then you chicken out and say something else."

The lies of the past few months were starting to pile up on him. Like a train wreck, car after car piling up on one another.

"What do you want from me, girl?" He snapped and immediately regretted his tone. She flinched, but stood her ground. She never backed down in her life and she wasn't about to start tonight.

Standing toe to toe now, voice raised, she said, "I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap. Like nothing you went through in your life matters. Like none of the people you've lost meant anything to you. It's bullshit!"

He bent slightly to be eye to eye with her, staring intently into her eyes. "Is that what you think?"

She swatted a fly away from her forehead, taking a step toward him. "That's what I know! What are you so afraid of?"

"I ain't afraid of nothin'!"

"Then prove it!"

"You don't want to know."

"Don't act like you know what I want or don't want."

"You don't want to know that my dad was a fuckin' drunk." The emotion he'd been holding back began to bubble to the surface. "You don't wanna' hear that. You don't wanna hear what it was like to grow up like that. That my daddy knocked the shit out of us on a regular basis. You don't want to know that my mom took off. Just left us. And that after my dad died Merle was just as big an asshole as my dad. You don't need to know that Merle is probably in prison somewhere. You don't want to know that, Beth." It hurt him inside to say that. Especially about his brother. Truth was, he was worried about him. He could, in fact, be in prison or just as likely he could be dead. Daryl had no idea. And, in his book, that made him a pretty shitty brother. Meryl had raised him, after their mother left and after their dad died. Or tried to anyhow. Merle had his own demons to combat, he had no idea how to parent his angry kid brother.

"Okay, so tell me what you did after you got away from your brother? Where did you go? What did you do?"

"It doesn't matter," quieter now, defeated almost, he ran his hand through his hair.

Ignoring the bubble of emotion stuck in her throat, threatening tears, Beth pleaded, " I want to know, because it makes you who you are today. I want to know because I want to help you."

"Help me? What the fuck? Do I look like I need help?"

"No. I didn't mean it that way. I just want to know because . . . because I love you."

"I ain't no charity case, ain't one of your damn animals."

"I know that! If you keep on refusing to be honest with me, I don't know how we can continue this. I've had enough secrets and lies in my life." It physically hurt her to say those words to him.

That snapped his temper back under control. He reached for her arm. _What the hell are you doin', Dixon! You're fuckin' up the best thing that has ever happened to you,_ he scolded himself.

He could see her shaking when she pushed his hand away. "Why are ya' hiding? It's not that your father was a drunk or your brother was an asshole. I knew that much about you. My father was a drunk. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's just a part of our lives."

Daryl's anger evaporated like the air out of a popped balloon. "Beth, I love you. Ya' know that. Can't that be enough?"

She placed her hand on his cheek, "You are enough" More than enough. More than she ever imagined. This impending cloud of doom weighed on them, threatening to crush this magical life they were creating.

Daryl leaned into her hand, closing his eyes briefly, looking like he was being torn in two. He had to tell her. At some point he would. Right now the risk was too immense to chance it. She could kick him off her land, and out of her life indefinitely. And she would be rightful in her decision. Only then he couldn't protect her. Not as easily anyhow. Mostly though, the thought of living without her every day the rest of his life killed him. He wanted to be a part of Beth's life. A part of the baby's life. He wanted to be there when he or she was born. Be there every single day. Giving him or her the life they deserved, the life neither he or Beth had growing up. It was a double-edged sword. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

"Do you trust me?" Daryl asked.

"Daryl…"

"Do you trust me?" He interpreted, determined.

He reached out and grasped her body to his. Holding her tight, as though his life depended on it, which in this case it did.

Voice rough with emotion, he spoke, "You've got to know. I love you and the baby more than I love anyone. I've never felt, never knew I could feel this way. That's all that matters. Not my past, not your past. Nothing mattered before I met you. Please, Beth, just trust me."

Part of her agreed with him; did it really matter? Inside, she was terrified. Terrified whatever it was he was hiding would matter too much, that it might change their future together, change the baby's future. Things were good as they were, not perfect but whose life was perfect? Maybe she didn't want to know what he was hiding. The fearless girl that could handle anything was, in fact, scared.

Foreboding overcame her as though the dark heavy sky had fell down atop her. She no longer wanted to know what he kept so closely trapped up inside. She put her finger to his lips and said, "I trust you. And that is enough for now."

He pulled her to him again commanding her lips for his own. Instead of the desperation she was expecting, he kissed her with true gentleness. His lips barely whispering against hers sending a ticklish sensation that went straight to her belly. Tenderly, exquisitely, he ran his hands up her arms, onto her shoulders, then traced back down to her wrists where her pulse throbbed under his fingertips. Pulling her closer, her belly pushing against his middle, she could feel him as he stiffened. Taking the kiss deeper Beth heard her own moan of shuddering pleasure. Their world was suddenly small, uniquely only theirs. This is what she truly wanted. Just the two of them. His hands on her body, his lips against hers. Sensations and emotions collided together like fireworks shooting into the sky.

Daryl had lost his capacity to think, to judge right from wrong. Somewhere inside his brain there was a faint warning sound telling him to back off. To stop touching her. Just back away and down the stairs, disappear into the dark and out of her life. He could watch from a distance. In all practicality it was a little late for that. She was pregnant. And he loved her. Wild horses wouldn't of been able to draw him away from Beth at that point.

She made him feel feral, there was no room for common sense. His hands sought her, skimming the sides of her legs, up to her hips. Feeling her soft, heated skin, her belly. Against his mouth, he felt her lips form his name.

He was becoming less gentle, desperate to feel her skin against his. Without thinking, he pulled her nightshirt up over her head. A slice of moonlight escaped its cloud cover and shown through making her skin glow in the misty light. 

He kissed her ear, trailing down to her neck, over her shoulder. His hand covered her breast and squeezed. A moan escaped at the slight pain, but the pain quickly melded with pleasure. His mouth covered the tip of her breast, making her arch her back. He kneeled down in front of her, his lips slowly tracing down to the roundness of her stomach, where he put a hand on each side. Looking up to her, he didn't need to say a word, his eyes spoke volumes. He loved that baby. She was carrying his child and that held an undeniable excitement he had never felt before. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he dragged them down her legs, his fingers leaving a white trail on her skin. She stepped out of them and he kissed her knee, then up her inner thigh. Painstakingly slow he made his way back up her body.

Daryl stood then and Beth' hands went immediately to unbutton the shirt he still wore from the wedding and then pulled it down over his shoulders. Working together, hands clumsy and fast, they quickly rid him of his pants and boots and moved to the cushioned porch swing. Pulling her down to straddle his lap, her thighs hugged his hips. Hunger fueled hunger until they ached with it. If it consumed them right then and there no one would hear any complaints. It was a risk, he was willing to take.

He lifted his head. His eyes were nearly black now and his breathing was unsteady. He ran a hand down her hair. He knew he would never be able to let her go. Let go of her look, of her scent, of the way her hand felt when she grasped him and guided him inside of her. Her hips began to move intuitively. Daryl pushing up to meet her downward thrusts. And this was exactly what he wanted; to be buried deep inside of the woman he loved.

* * *

So, the redneck had a secret, did he? Jimmy practically rubbed his hands together in wickedness. Witnessing Beth and Daryl's argument from his perch at the top of a tall sycamore tree. From there he could view the whole property. The house, the barn, all of it. Though he couldn't see them while they were under the cover of the porch, he heard everything that was said. Voices traveled in the country, especially at night. They had gone quiet, and he shimmied down the tree, knowing Beth and Daryl were preoccupied, he jogged down the driveway to where his truck was hidden down an old road a half mile down. He had some internet research to do.

* * *

Daryl lay awake with Beth in his arms. He hoped like hell that he wasn't screwing things up. He only had to weigh the pros and cons to know that the pros - being with Beth, being able to protect her, far overrode the cons - Beth kicking him out of her life, then not being able to protect her.

Jimmy was capable of killing. He had saw the look in his eyes that night in the kitchen. And he'd much rather have her alive and be pissed off at him than love him and be dead. That's the way it had to be.

"Beth," he mumbled into her neck. "Beth." His voice brought her up from the subconsciousness of sleep. Somehow they had managed to make it into the house and up the stairs into bed after their little escapade on the porch swing.

"Hmm?" She mumbled, pressing her back to his front.

The feeling of her bare skin, the feel of her bottom pushing against his middle momentarily distracted him. She just felt so damn good. Everything about her, her skin, her scent, her round belly. He felt such an innate desire, a need, to protect her and the baby. He put his hand protectively over her belly.

"My daddy's name was Will. I don't remember him ever being without a drink in his hand. No matter if it was eight in the mornin' or eight in the night. I don't ever remember him being nice either, not once. The best thing he did for me was make sure I knew how to hunt. How to track. How to fish. How to survive. And I owe him for that. That has helped me more times than I can count."

"Oh, Daryl." Rolling onto her back, Beth reached up cupped his cheek with her hand, at a loss of words, it was all she could think to say. 

"My mama." He paused when unexpected emotion formed in his throat. "Her name was Caroline. When I was young I hated her for leaving. More 'n I hated my father. I hated her for leaving me with him. Now, I don't blame her. Merle was already a hellion spitin' fire at thirteen. And, she couldn't take me and make it on her own. I get it now. I don't blame her anymore."

It was something. He was sharing what he could with her, no matter how badly it hurt him. And she would take it.

"There are just some things I can't tell you. Someday I will be able to tell you. Just not yet."

Suddenly very tired of the subject, Beth accepted it for what it was. "I know. I get it." Well, not really, but she regarded it to be their truth. It was what it was.

He bent, nuzzled her neck, whispering, "I love you."

"Me too."

He rubbed his hand over her belly again, "And him."

Beth's smile was slow, stunning. "Him?"

"Uh huh."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Us Dixon's, we make males. I have a brother. My father had three brothers, his father had five brothers."

"And what if it's a girl, just like me?"

"Then I'd be the luckiest man in the world."


	16. Chapter 16 - Friends and Family

**Sorry for the delay. But life happens. You all know how that goes. Thanks so so so much for reading and all the comments.  ;)**

* * *

 

It was a dream. Or, rather, a nightmare. It _had_ to be. Beth was alone outside...somewhere. Not necessarily at the farm. That was her best guess. Nighttime out in the country can be strikingly dark. Especially if the moon and stars are hidden by the clouds. There are no streetlights or traffic to offer intermittent light onto your path. It was as though she was standing in a box. Black as pitch, the air surrounding her close and suffocating, like the afternoon of a hot and humid July. Breath close. Hot. She was trapped. Trapped inside her own mind. She could feel the danger lurking nearby. Could sense it down in her bones, though she couldn't pinpoint what or who that danger was associated with. She opened her mouth to scream, emitting no sound.

Encircling her arms around her middle, expecting to find the plumpness of her belly. To her horror, her stomach was flat. Panic settled into her thickly and quick. Gasping for breath, for her voice, she yelled again with no sound. Her fingers grasping at her loose fitting night shirt, grasping for something that wasn't there.

Beth woke with a start, jerking up into the sitting position. Her breath escaping her lungs as though she had been holding it. Startled awake, Daryl rolled over facing her. Placing a hand over her thigh, sleepily asking. "Whats a matter?"

Her hands went to her wonderfully round mid-section. Relief swam through her, only then did her lungs allow her breath to fill them.

"Beth?" Daryl asked. Alarmed now, he sat up.

"Jus' a dream." Her throat was dry, and leaning over she took the glass of water she kept on the nightstand. Hands shaking, she gulped it down in a few swigs.

"You 'k?" Daryl asked as she set the glass back down. Pulling her back down to the mattress, pillowing her head on his bicep.

"Yeah, jus' a bad dream," she said again, hoping Daryl wouldn't pick up on the shakiness of her voice.

They laid like that for a while. Beth's hand protectively laying over the baby, her body leaned into Daryl's side. Her nerves calming as she listened to Daryl's steadying breath. Sleep began to take over once again when the slightest little movement could be felt under her hand, layers deep under the stretched skin of her belly.

Her eyes flashed open, but instead of moving she laid very still. Hoping to feel it again. The memory of the dream still sent her on edge, she needed this reassurance that the baby was still there, still with her. Naturally, she knew it was. That dream, though was so real.

In the past couple weeks, she had felt a bubbling in her womb. A reverberation of movement, still to dull to be felt from the outside. Some people described the baby's first movement as butterfly wings. To Beth, it felt like bubbles brushing against the inside of her abdomen.

There! The tiniest kick.

Feeling the bumb-bump on his hip, Daryl opened one eye. He sleepily asked, "What was that?"

In the light of the hallway lamp they kept on at night coming through the bedroom door, her eyes were big, a glint of excitement shining in them. "The baby."

Taking his hand slowly, afraid she could scare the movement away, she placed his hand on her belly where she felt the kick. Covering his hand with hers. Waiting...waiting.

Then again - Kick!

Daryl's eyes went from sleepy, half open, to fully awake. Amazingly steel blue. "That's the baby?" He asked needlessly. Of course it was the baby, but he'd never experienced that before. Vaguely he knew babies kicked in utero, it was nothing he ever put to conscious thought before that night.

He didn't know what to say. Didn't know how to put what he was feeling into words. All the breath in his body became still. Stuck. The baby, at that very second, became real. It was real before, but this cemented it in concrete.

"I can't believe there is an actual person in there, movin' and kickin'."

Beth agreed with his astonishment. "I know, it's crazy." Her thoughts went to Miriam, and how she felt the first time she felt her move. She was alone. Jimmy was gone, she couldn't remember where. She remembered how she had no one to share that moment with. She had been determined then not to let that damper her excitement. Having Daryl here with her, experiencing their baby's' first movement, seemingly excited, was everything.

They fell asleep in that position. Daryl's hand over their baby, Beth's hand over his. Already a little family.

* * *

 

The bed cocooned Beth and Daryl. Almost holding them hostage, making it very difficult to want to get up. The sun was shining outside and the animals probably wanted to be fed and watered, so Beth slipped out of bed trying her best to not wake Daryl. He was sound asleep, laying on his back, snoring slightly.

She needed to get chores started so she could get a shower and ready for her appointment with Carol. For this month's appointment, she was meeting her at the farm. Considering there was a good chance when she went into labor Beth wouldn't be able to make it to town, Carol wanted to be sure she knew the way there. Beth was relieved, she hated going to the town. She was toying with the idea of having a homebirth. Her father was born in the master bedroom of the house. Maggie had almost been an unplanned homebirth, so excited she was to enter the world. Not having to go to town, not having to set foot in another hospital sounded wonderful to Beth. Daryl would be a nervous wreck, but he would be anyway, she reasoned.

Making her way out to the barn, Echo trailing behind her, she greeted the goats, eyeing the empty stall that had once held the calf. She bent down turning the water spigot on to fill up the water buckets when Echo, who had previously been scrounging up a mouse in the corner, came to her. Leaning against the back back of her legs, she whinned. Then growled, her furry body growing tense.

Angling her body to the right, she looked down at Echo. "What is it, girl?" She reached for Echo, patting down the mohawk that stood longways down her spine.

A lone whistle sounded through the trees, through the barn. Was that a bird? Throughout her life, she became very efficient at naming and mimicking the bird calls she heard. This one in particular didn't really sound like a bird.

Did it?

Everything suddenly became menacing and her nightmare, previously forgotten, came flooding back to her. The light became a lie, casting shadows of uncertainty in the corners of the barn. Not a cloud in the sky, yet lightning felt sure to strike at any second. Every nerve on high alert. She spun around the barn, looking for something that clearly was in her imagination. Or was it? Chest heavy with anticipation. She felt someone somewhere was preying on her, waiting for a weakened moment to pounce. Was it her mind that was the enemy or was there a real danger - Jimmy - that she had to be weary of. Telling herself she was just being silly, her imagination was in overdrive, her senses were on overload. The pregnancy was making her overly sensitive.

Besides, Jimmy was a pansy. He would never show his face here again. Would he?

"What do ya' think you're doin'?" Daryl's gruff words spun Beth around, her hand on the butt of her gun in the holster.

Eyeing her uncertainly, he pulled the t-shirt he carried over his head. Hair mussed, eyes squinting at the bright light that shone through the breezeway of the barn.

The water overflowing in the bucket she was filling, splashed over the edge, soaking her boots. Swearing, she bent to turn the spigot off. "What do you mean what am I doin'?"

"Where'd you go?"

Beth looked around, "Umm, here?"

"Why didn't you wake me up?"

"After last night, I thought you needed the sleep." She smiled slyly. Taking one last look around. The bird, or whatever it was, was gone now.

"Damn it Beth."

The smile slid off her face, she rolled her eyes. _Not this again._

"What do you think you're doin'?"

"Chores..." she stated the obvious.

"You know you don't have the doctor's okay to do chores yet. You're gonna hurt yo'self."

And where is the sling?" He didn't say anything about its absence yesterday. She was only walking down the aisle. She wasn't set to do any barn chores at the wedding.

"I don't need it. And I don't need the doctor or you telling me when I can or can't do my own work on my own farm."

"You listen here…"

"No!" She yelled, throwing the water bucket at his feet, which he effortlessly dodged. "You listen here. You're my…"

What was he?

"My man. But, you don't get to tell me what to do. My shoulder is fine, the bullet wound has healed. What more do you want from me? This is my home. My work. I can't just shove it all off on you because I got hurt."

"Beth, you're pregnant."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Duh, Daryl! I am pregnant. Not disabled. Do I need to tell ya' that women have been having babies for years? In much worse conditions than this." She gestured generally to the farm.

A moment passed, then another. Beth was right. She was pregnant. Not disabled. She wasn't going to spend the next few months on the couch. She had to be moving, had to take care of her farm. It was just her personality. He was punishing her for being herself. The strong, self assured woman he fell in love with wouldn't cease to exist just because she was pregnant. The sooner he realized this the more peaceful their life would be.

For some reason, her anger, her pink cheeks, hands that lay on her hips, stomach protruding out under her flannel, made him chuckle.

"What's so funny?" She snapped.

He took a step toward her, wrapping his arm around her. "You're infuriating, do you know that?"

Relaxing in his grip, situation diffused, she smiled, "Right back 'atcha."

* * *

 

Thanks to modern technology it only took Jimmy a quick internet search using his cell phone to find the town's local newspaper had archives available online. It took a little bit longer to find an obituary for a William Dixon. Surviving two sons, Merle and Daryl. And a little bit longer to find a small clipping about two hometown boys being shipped off to Afghanistan.

_Daryl William Dixon, son of the late Will Dixon and Rick Carl Grimes, son of Richard and Mary Grimes, after completing basic training, are due to deploy to Afghanistan…_

Continuing his research further, using a website that procured background checks on people for a small sum of money, Jimmy found that not only was Dixon a dedicated war hero, he also entered the FBI shortly after retiring from the Army.

* * *

 

Beth showered, though, she wasn't sure how much washing was actually accomplished since Daryl joined her halfway. She wasn't one to argue his interfering though. Smiling again, she thought back to his hands sliding over her wet body. No one's touch had ever had the effect on her as his did. Running a brush through her hair, she heard Carol's beat up Jeep pull up to the house.

Carol was a doctor. A doctor in a small town, but she could no doubt afford fancier vehicle, something newer. Still, she chose to drive the beat up old Grand Cherokee and Beth liked that about her. She even insisted they call her Carol. Not Dr. Peletier, not Dr. Carol. Just Carol.

"Hey, in there." Beth yelled to the bathroom where Daryl was hopefully finishing up his shower, "Don't come out nekkid, the doctor is here."

"I'll try not to."

Beth laughed and went down the stairs to greet Carol.

. . .

After coffee and talk of the upcoming hunting season, Beth lay back on the couch so Carol could check her measurements and the baby's heartbeat.

"Woha, you've grown two inches since last check. You're appetite is in full force, I see."

Beth scrunched up her face, "Is that bad?" Maybe she should of had a lighter breakfast. The pancakes and bacon Daryl made on a regular basis were just too good to pass up.

"No, not at all. You were a bit underweight to begin with, you have some making up to do. Are you feeling any movement?"

"Yeah, a little. Small kicks." Beth looked over to Daryl, who sat on the coffee table next to the couch. Quietly, intently, listening to their conversation.

"Great. What about you Daryl? Feel the kicks yet?"

"Yeah, a little bit." He squeezed Beth's outstretched hand, feeling a bit like they were sharing a secret. Just the two of them.

"Those small kicks will quickly turn into field goals soon enough." Carol lightheartedly warned.

Standing on the deck, arching her aching lower back, Beth waved off the doctor. The appointment had gone smoothly and the baby's heartrate and her own blood pressure were just where they should be.

It looked like it would be a morning of visitors, because just as the doctor pulled out of the drive, Lori and Carl Grimes pulled in.

Lori had also become indispensible in the casserole department. She was an amazing cook, always generously fixing them a meal and bringing it out at each visit. This time was no different, as she exited the vehicle she reached into the back seat and took out a dish covered with foil.

"Ya' know, you don't have to bring food every time you come out here," Beth said, smiling. Food was still food, though, and she gratefully took the dish out of Lori's hands.

Lori shrugged off Beth with the wave of her now empty hand. "It's no big deal."

"Hey, Ms. Greene." Carl said in greeting. "Daryl 'round?"

Carl had become part of their little family in recent weeks. Always willing to help out and work on the farm when they found odd jobs for him. Never shying away from hard work, always listening intently to Beth and Daryl's directions. Daryl had taken quite a liking to the boy. It made Beth fall all the more in love with Daryl, seeing the glimpse of the father he would hopefully be to their child. She wasn't sure what it was about Carl and Daryl, but they had a bond. Carl was a good kid and the way Daryl took him under his wing, so to speak. No questions or hesitations. Beth figured it was good for the both of them.

Putting her hands on her hips in mock disapproval, she lectured, "I said for you to call me Beth, Mr. Grimes." Laughing, she flicked the bill of his hand down his face. "But yeah, Daryl should be out in the barn."

When Carl wasn't at school, which he hated and was very boisterous in professing as much, he was at the farm with them, making Lori and Rick fast friends by default. Even though Beth could sometimes sense a strain between the two, they were good people. Tried to be the best parents they could be to Carl. Lori had confided in Beth one evening after dinner, the time alone shared while Carl was at the farm with Beth and Daryl, did Rick and Lori's relationship some good.

When Carl ran off to the barn, Lori and Beth went into the kitchen. "Was that Carol pulling out?" Lori questioned. "She delivered Carl, ya know."

"Did she?" It was reasonable to think Carol had delivered many babies in the community. Not many OBGYN's to chose from.

"Yep. 'Course, that was years ago." Lori said, her voice wistful.

Putting the tea kettle on the back burner, she turned to face Lori, leaning on the counter. "Carl is a good kid. Real good."

Beth hadn't experienced this in her life. A woman she could call a friend. She had Maggie, but friends were few and far between. Living out here all alone, rarely going to town, she supposed she brought that on herself. She thought she didn't need it. Didn't need the hastle. Gaining a friendship in Lori and Carol she realized that wasn't true. She did need human interaction. Hiding herself away out here on the farm wouldn't save her from hurt or pain.

"Thanks. He's so strong-headed. So much like his daddy."

"How did ya'll meet? You and Rick." Beth casually asked, going to the cupboard, retrieving two mugs.

"Oh, I had just moved here from Atlanta. I had gotten a job teaching at the elementary school. Rick was back from Afghanistan"….

And so they sat together, drinking tea, talking about times past and what might come. How Rick and Lori dated for a short while before getting married. Then getting pregnant quickly with Carl. How they tried for another baby with no luck.

Beth confided in Lori about Mariam, about how her fears were getting harder and harder to ignore. Lori reassured her, placing a hand over hers, she said, "Everything will work out, you'll see. The reason you're so worried is because your going to be a great mom. Great moms worry. Simple as that."

* * *

 

The month flew past and before they knew it, it was opening day of hunting season. Daryl and Carl were suited up, bows in hand, ready to head out of the door before daylight.

Daryl was taking Carl out for his first real hunt. They were both excited. Beth snapped a picture of the two geared up and ready to go with her phone, sending it to Lori before they left.

"Good luck boys, get mama some venison." The baby was craving it.

"We'll try," Daryl said, leaning over and brushing a kiss over her cheek.

Beth didn't bow hunt, always sticking with her gun for the later in the season firearms hunt. There was talk of getting her own bow for next year's season. Until then, she was staying back at the house while Carl and Daryl did the hunting.

Beth stood at the sink, scrubbing the skillet from their early morning breakfast of sausage, biscuits and gravy. Still in her pajamas; her old night shirt as well as the leggings she wore when Carl was there, when she heard the kitchen door screech behind her.

Without turning around she asked, "Ya'll forget something?"

"Na', I think the better question is did you forget somethin'?"

At the sound of that all too familiar voice, Beth's spine straightened.


	17. Chapter 17 - Full Circle

**Hey everyone! Thank you so so so much for reading! And a special thank you for commenting. :) Hope you enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Full Circle

It felt as though someone had knocked the wind out of her lungs and her head began to feel like it were free floating. Closing her eyes, taking a deep breath she turned and faced Jimmy head on.

To her own surprise she sounded calm, cool. Bored almost. "What did I forget, Jimmy?"

"That you were married to me."

To say this confused Beth was a great understatement. "We _were_ married. Were. Not anymore."

Jimmy cocked his head, "Till death do us part, 'emember?"

Speaking those vows to him felt like a lifetime ago. And it really was. Standing in front of the Justice of the Peace at the county courthouse, she remembered feeling numb. Not happy, not sad. Just numb. It wasn't what she had planned for her life, having to get married because she was pregnant. Those were the circumstances she was up against and she was determined at the time to make the best of it.

She was a different person then. She was just a kid. How could she of known what Jimmy was capable of? If she had it to do over again, would she of taken the same path? That question was a conundrum. Without that chapter in her life there would of been no Miriam. And, even though she only had her for such a short period of time, nine months and then the few seconds after she was born before the hosptial personal whisked her off, it was a time that made her who she was. She may regret Jimmy, but she would never regret Miriam. In order to have Miriam, she had to have Jimmy. This...this, though, was more than she bargained for.

"Yes, but the divorce kinda' negates that, dontcha think?" Beth focused on keeping her breathing even. To keep her voice calm.

Yelling, his tendons protruding in his neck. "You will always be my wife. Always!"

He took a step towards her and she put up her hand. "Don't come any closer." Don't back up, don't back down, just like her daddy taught her. If she gave him an inch, he would take a mile.

"That's where you're wrong. I'm not your wife. You need to turn around and leave. You don't belong here."

"No argument there. You made it clear that this was your place, not ours." Beth simply lifted her shoulders, he did not belong here. Maybe at one time he did, when they were married. Not any longer, and not for a long time.

Outwardly she was calm, inside her mind whirled. Trying to find something, anything to help her escape the situation. If, and that was a big _if_ , she could just get to the bedroom, and to her Glock where she left it every night on her nightstand. She took a step, just a small slight step away from Jimmy and further into the house. Her belly made her off-center. Clumsy and slow.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He kicked out a chair form the table. "Sit."

Beth only stood, staring at him. Daring him. She knew it was stupid. She was done being a victim. No one came onto her property, into her house, threatening her and the life of her unborn child and got away with it.

"Now's not the time to be stubborn, Bethany," Jimmy said, reaching behind him and retrieving the Ruger SR22 from the waistband of his jeans. Eyeing it casually, not pointing it at her. Yet.

She was stubborn, indeed, but not stupid, she plopped down into the chair.

After she got home from the hospital, Daryl stayed close to her. As much because she was injured as for the fear of Jimmy showing up again. This was the first time Daryl had been further than a stone's throw distance away. It occurred to her then that Jimmy must of been watching, waiting, biding his time, until he found her without Daryl.

Keeping him talking, she asked, "How long you been watching us?"

He circled her, like a predator watching it prey. "Oh a while now. Who's the boy?" He asked, speaking of Carl.

"A friend."

"So first you take in every damn animal within a hundred mile radius, then you take in a strange man and now a boy?"

Steering the conversation away from Carl, "Somethin' like that." Becoming impatient, she said, her voice thin with anger. "What's your plan, Jimmy? Let's get on with it."

He rounded her, leaning down, palms on his knees, looking into her face, "When were you going to tell me about _our_ baby."

Beth swallowed audibly, sweat was beginning to break out on her forehead even though the house was cool. "That's where you're wrong." She put a protective hand on her stomach. "This is my baby. Not yours. Mine. Mine and Daryl's."

He rose then, chuckling a deep, dark, humorless laugh and rose his hand, slapping her across the face, knocking her completely off the chair and onto the floor with a hard thud.

* * *

"Dr. Peletier. We haven't seen you on our floor in a while." said the bleach blond haired, post-op nurse whose nametag read Andrea. She bounced around the counter landing in Carol's path.

"True enough. Not much need for an OB doctor on a post-op ward." Even the c-sections she performed stayed on the neonatal floor afterward. She was just passing through, visiting a friend before her own rounds began.

"That was such a fascinating case," Andrea said.

Confused, Carol squinted her eyes at the nurse, trying to get a grasp of what she was speaking of.

"The dad getting to tell the mom she's pregnant." She prompted.

"Oh, yes, it was interesting."

"I was freaked out..." Andrea continued to babble.

Carol, not really listening, was trying to make her way around Andrea. So preoccupied she was with getting on with her day, she almost missed what the nurse said next.

"The security guard outside her door scared us all. And then when that guy was caught going through her file."

Andrea had her full attention now, "What guy?"

She smiled, overly eager to help, "There was a man I caught poking around her file one of the nights she was here."

"What? Why wasn't security or myself notified?"

Andrea frowned at Carol's sudden sharp tone. "He said he was confused, apologized. Said it was a mistake."

"A mistake he went behind the nurses desk and into someone's medical chart? Someone that needed a security guard at her door. You didn't find that strange?"

"I...I should've called security. He just seemed genuinely sorry." Andreas cheeks began to redden, realizing now she had been incredibly stupid. The man was handsome and a smooth talker. "Oh no, what have I done?"

"Well as long as he was sorry…" Carol said sarcastically, moving past Andrea fishing her phone out of her pocket. Carol had a terrible feeling. One that went beyond her doctors intuition and into the uncharted territory of a woman just knowing when another woman was in trouble.

* * *

Sprawled on the kitchen floor, dazed, Beth held her head in her hands. Vaguely wondering how much abuse and damage a body could endure before she would lose the baby. And what was that buzzing? Was it her head?

Through a haze of white blurry vision, she looked up. Jimmy towered over her menacingly, a sneer played across his lips. The buzzing, though. That wasn't in her head. It was her phone on the counter top. Remembering she had left it there to charge, plugged into one of the outlets. Unaware she had the strength, she jumped up, making a dive for the phone, yanking it from the plug, she held the phone in her fist.

Feeling a second of the tiniest triumph, Jimmy was on her in a flash of a second, knocking the phone and her against the wall. A woosh of air and sound escaped her lungs as she plowed into the wall. The world around her began to darken...as the mangled phone fell away.

* * *

An annoying squeal sounded in Carol's ear, pulling the phone back away from her face she looked at it to be sure it was connected. It was. And when she placed the phone back to her ear she could hear scuffling, then the muffled scream of a woman. Or, not so much of a scream as a force of sound. It was Beth. She was sure of it. Torn between hanging up and keeping the line open, Carol decided to disconnect and put a call to the King County Sheriff's office. Taking off in a sprint for the elevator doors, waiting only a second before abandoning them for the stairs, cursing their slowness.

A bored voice sounded in her ear "King County Sher…"

"Sheriff Grimes. Please it's an emergency."

"Ain't it always?" The voice snarked before putting her through to Rick's line.

Rick picked up on the second ring as she pushed through the fourth floor stairwell door. Already out of breath and regretting not continuing her running regimen she had picked up again after New Years, she breathed heavily.

"Grimes."

"Sheriff. This is Carol Peletier. I think their might be a problem at the Greene farm."

* * *

Beth knew her phone had to be dead after Jimmy smashed it along with her head against the wall. The screen was cracked and the speaker busted out of its box with a comical spring like action. She watched it in slow motion as if fell from her hand, useless. She stood, dazed, holding onto the countertop.

_Think. Beth. Think._ "If this is your baby, like you say it is, why do you want to hurt 'im?"

"Because I'll be damned if I let that baby be raised by another man. You know as well as I do that baby might be mine."

_Fuck._ How could he possibly know that, Beth asked herself, putting her hands to her head, hoping maybe that would make the spinning stop. It didn't.

Resorting to begging, she moaned, "I'll go with you. Do anything you want. Leave with you right now if you won't hurt the baby." And she would too, then figure out a way to get away from him, just as long as he didn't hurt the baby.

Jimmy came up behind Beth, curling his fingers around her neck, cupping her chin. She fought back a gag when his breath, stale coffee and about three days worth of unbrushed teeth, circled around to her nose. "How dumb do you think I am?" He questioned.

"I don't think you're dumb." She almost laughed at the absurdity of her own words. "You waited, bidded your time until Daryl left. Waiting for the right time."

"Just like that, you'll go with me?"

Turning around to face him, she answered, "Yes." She was beginning to shake. She knew damn well she wouldn't be going far with him, but how could she avoid it. Desperation clawed like fingernails through her veins. All she really needed was to get to her bedroom. And her Glock.

She hated herself for the tears that gleamed in her eyes. "What's this? Big tough Beth, crying?" He laughed wickedly, roughly wiping the tear that fell from her eye. His touch was a strangers. To think those hands had touched her at one time. Not only that, but she had craved it when, towards the end of their relationship he withheld contact, only doling it out when he wanted something from Beth.

_Stall him, as long as possible._ A voice, she had no idea whose, sounded in her head.

"I just don't know what to think. I didn't think you wanted any more kids...after...after Miriam." Get him to talk, keep him talking, was her new plan.

That surprised him, "You didn't want to if memory serves."

"I guess I was scared. You can understand that, right?" She didn't give a damn if he did or not. For a quick second, she thought she might of seen a moment of lucidity drift onto his face, but it was quickly washed away when he face contorted into anger.

"Scared? What about me? How do you think I felt when you just took off. Ran back home."

"I told you where I was goin'." Placating him was proving to be more difficult than she thought. "I asked you to come with me so we could bury our daughter together." Oh hell, her mama was right when she told Beth over and over again her mouth was going to get her trouble. This appeared to be the day.

"So I was just supposed to drop my life to come traipsing out to Boonesville?"

Biting her tongue, she said, "It doesn't matter. You're here now. I'm here. We can make it work."

"And what about him?"

"He doesn't matter." _Oh, Daryl. Forgive me for that._

"Suddenly he doesn't matter?"

Beth, unable to say the words again, could only nod her response. Fighting the bile that rose in her throat, she spoke again, becoming desperate. Trying to disarm him, confuse him, she asked, "Remember when you first asked me out? In high school."

Puzzled, "Yeah, yeah I remember."

"Tell me about it."

_Keep him talking, buy time._ Time. Daryl wouldn't be back for hours. She had no close neighbors to hear her scream. It was just the two of them. Just her and Jimmy. She was on her own. No one would save her. She had to save herself.

Surprising her, he said, "You looked so young."

"I was young. Just fifteen."

"You were so quiet, afraid of everything and everyone. I just walked right up to at lunch."

"I thought there's no way this guy, this handsome, football player is talking to me."

"You were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He lifted a hand to cup her cheek with his palm, seemingly oblivious to the bruise that was already beginning to form. "Still are."

His words meant nothing to her. A stranger speaking a strange far-off language.

He looked down at her expanded stomach, his hand sliding down to it. Beth couldn't stop the shudder of disgust that ran through her body as he leaned in, placing his lips lightly to hers.

* * *

Daryl and Carl sat in their makeshift deer blind of brush and tree limbs. The sun had come up and now was the hard part of hunting. Waiting. Waiting in silence for a deer to come along, munching the dew frosted grass.

Carl was a great kid, Daryl had enjoyed the time they've spent together. And since Rick did not bow hunt, Daryl gladly stepped in and took him on his first real hunt. This was an important moment in a boy's life. Just as important as his first car or his first girl.

It was a shame Beth couldn't join them but she did not own a bow, yet. He would solve that issue soon enough though. For now there was something, he couldn't quite pinpoint what, about sitting in the woods; just two guys in complete silence, surrounded by nature… it bound them together closer than blood brothers.

Daryl's father had been the one to show him how to hunt, based out of necessity. Not out of love or bonding. Back then if you didn't hunt, you didn't eat. Simple as that. By the time he was five, he was hunting on his own. Didn't matter if it was hunting season or not back then. You saw something worth eating, you shot it. Now though, he abided by the rules of the county he was in at that moment. Daryl reflected how all things came full circle. This was the place he cut his teeth on. The place he abandoned as soon as he could. Now he was back, and not leaving again.

It was times like this he missed his brother the most. Reminded him of the times they spent together, away from their father, and it was just the two of them. Come fall, when the deer ran dumb, looking for a mate, they would be in the woods, hunting. They always hunted together. His brother was a bastard, but he still was his brother and he did do the best he knew how in raising Daryl. He realized then he was no longer angry at his brother. Or his father. They didn't know any better. Daryl did know better now and he would, by God, do better with his own life, with his own child.

So lost in his own thoughts, he almost didn't hear the crunch of small footfalls on the ground. A deer stepped out from the thicket of forest across the field in front of them. Carl, jumped, sitting straight up.

Looking from the deer, then to Daryl, he whispered, "Be calm. Remember, don't shoot unless you are sure about your shot."

As the deer inched closer painstakingly slow, munching on the clovered forest floor, they could see it was, to be sure, a beautiful buck, one Daryl himself would of taken, if it weren't for Carl.

Finally. Finally the deer was about fifty feet away, totally oblivious to the two hunters hidden behind the brush.

Carl silently slowly rose to his knees. To his credit, he didn't shake or shudder in the least. Daryl instructed, "Whenever you're ready."

Carl took a deep breath and without making a sound, he hooked his release onto the string of his compound bow. Pulling it back, the arrow already set into the nock, waiting on release. Placing the kisser button in the corner of his mouth, he took aim, and he let the arrow fly.

It hit right where it was supposed to, right behind the shoulder, dropping the buck where he stood.

Carl let out a whoop of excitement and Daryl didn't want to remind him to remain quiet till you were sure the deer was dead (not wanting to push it further away) but the deer was obviously gone, and Daryl was as enthusiastic as Carl about his first kill.

When they were about to stand, Daryl's phone vibrated in his cargo camouflaged pocket pants. This wasn't a normal cell phone. It was the phone he and Rick used to communicate. Daryl froze in fear. They talked business about once a week, usually while Beth was in the shower, or out with Lakota, or walking with Echo. Never near enough to overhear. Rick knew he and Carl would be out hunting. Not optimal time for a conversation they could have any time throughout the day. Alarms sounded in his mind.

"Ya' gonna answer that?" Carl asked, not waiting for an answer before going to stand over his kill.

Daryl didn't need to answer it. He knew he needed to get back to the cabin. Right the hell now **.**

* * *

Rick sped up Millpond Road, pushing his old Bronco as fast as it would go, two police cruisers close on his tail. His Bronco was built for this road, this terrain, but the police cruisers not so much. That did not slow him down any as the trees buzzed past in a blur of color. After he got the call from Carol, warning him something was not right out at the farm, he and his deputies were in their vehicles and on their way out of town in a matter for minutes. Now it felt like they were going in slow motion, not being able to get there fast enough. He told Carol to stay put in town, he knew better than that. She was another woman that didn't take suggestions kindly. He was not surprised to see her car, a rough looking Jeep Grand Cherokee, on the tail of the second police cruiser. It might not be a bad idea to have a doctor on scene, he decided. It could be nothing. They could get there only to find Beth safe in the house, or out at the barn. Carl and Daryl off hunting. She'd be surprised seeing the cavalry rush onto her property. Maybe even ticked-off. Rick didn't care though, he'd much rather play it safe than be sorry.

He took the wheel with his left hand and dialed Daryl, once again, with his right. He had tried numerous times since getting Carol's call with no success. On the sixth ring, as Rick was about to hang up yet again, Daryl finally answered, sounding out of breath.

"What the hell, man? Answer your damn phone."

Ignoring Rick he said, "Somethin's wrong. Beth's phone goes straight to voicemail. I'm on my way back to the house." Rick had gotten the same thing when he tried to call her cell also.

"We are on our way too. 'Bout five miles out."

"See you there."

"Daryl, I know it's hard. But wait for us. We are better in numbers." Rick knew the probability of Daryl abiding by his request was slim to none, he still had to ask it of him.

"Don't ask me that, man. You know I can't do that."

Yes, Rick knew as much. "Just don't kill him."

"Don't ask me that either."


	18. Chapter 18 - Do Right

Beth closed her eyes tight, escaping deep down into the recesses of her mind, forcing herself to think. To not panic as Jimmy clawed at her clothes. Neglectfully, he placed his gun on the counter behind her, becoming desperate to reach her bare skin. Before he was able to lift her night shirt above her head, she stopped him.

"Wait, wait…No!" Beth spoke, shoving at his shoulders.

For some reason, nothing short of a miracle, he did stop. Looking at her, he asked, "This about him?"

And that's when Beth knew he had become delusional. Had lost his mind. Yes, it was about Daryl. But, it was so much more than that. She didn't recognize Jimmy. He looked like Jimmy, sounded like Jimmy. Up till that point she had clung to hope that he wasn't really dangerous. That he wouldn't really harm her. She was wrong. Those weren't Jimmy's eyes. When she looked into them, the Jimmy she was knew was long gone. In his place stood a stranger with a soul of ice.

"What do you know about him anyway? Jus' takin' him in like you did."

Confused by his abrupt change of topic, she asked, "About Daryl? I love him, 'n he loves me. That's all I need to know." _He's everything you're not_ , and that was enough for Beth. It was all she needed.

"Pffft." He sounded with his lips. "Your own little war hero in a big tough guy package…"

Beth's face, previously flushed, paled. Eyeing her intently, he read her shock. "Ohhh, so you _didn't_ know?" Jimmy made a mock surprised face, placing a hand over his mouth. "Didn't know he was over in Afghanistan or Hibackastan or some other Stan. That's too bad. Didn't mean to spill the beans. There's more, ya know."

Beth's heart began to pulse in her head and her lungs wouldn't take in air. Nothing was as it should be, nothing was what it seemed. She knew nothing. Black was white, up was down. Daryl wasn't who she thought he was. Jimmy was absolutely insane. As the adrenaline wore off and the fear began to seep in, pain radiated throughout her body. She bent over, trying to catch her breath. Long deep breaths in and out.

"What? What's wrong? Is it the baby?" Jimmy asked.

"Like you care," she mumbled.

He took a step closer and when he did she rammed him full force, her shoulder connecting with his face, pain shooting through her like a lightening bolt. His hands grasped for her, trying unsuccessfully to right himself, but ended up pulling them both down, taking her with him. As they fell to the floor, Beth's fingers grazed the gun he had placed on the countertop. They tumbled hard onto the floor, Beth falling underneath Jimmy. Without missing a beat, ignoring the pain she felt everywhere, she rolled onto her back, Jimmy rising on his knees above her, she pointed the gun at his face.

* * *

A million things ran through Daryl's mind as he and Carl made their way through the field back to the trail that led to the house. The morning had seemed so normal. Having breakfast together. Suiting up to hunt. Kissing Beth chastely on the lips before leaving her in the kitchen in her pajamas. No place for a gun. He could see it, actually visualize the gun they left on the end table upstairs in the bedroom they shared.

Last night had seemed blessedly normal as well. Lori, Rick and Carl joining them for dinner. Lori and Beth taking a walk after dinner. Rick and Daryl doing the dishes. Carl wandering the property on their own. Daryl had optimistically thought maybe the worst was behind them. Maybe, just maybe, they could live their life as normal from here on out. Oh, how he was wrong. Dead wrong. If anything happened to Beth or the baby...No, he shook his head as they ran along the trail, he wouldn't allow himself to think that way. He will get there in time. And Beth and the baby will be fine. He just had to get to her first.

"What's goin' on? Why are we goin' back to the house?" Carl asked, following Daryl, confused, but keeping up with him as they ran and ran and ran until it felt like their lungs would burst.

"Beth's in trouble. I've got to get back to her."

* * *

Rick peeled around the last turn before the farm, kicking up dirt and gravel under his tires. Hardly touching the break before his foot put the pedal to the metal again, taking off at racing speed. His first priority was Beth, of course, but his main focus was getting there before Daryl. His job as law maker was to keep people from dying if he at all could. And if Daryl got there before he did, there would be bloodshed. Not that he would fault Daryl, he'd probably do the same if he was in his shoes and not the Sheriff.

* * *

And she couldn't pull the trigger.

Her hands shook, tears blurred her vision. Anger and hatred so potent in her veins that she was sure it would ooze out like blood if she were poked with a needle. Hatred for Jimmy. Anger for herself. She knew this was what he deserved. She had promised herself she would do it if ever given the opportunity. But now, she couldn't. She couldn't take a life, even one as lowly and deserving as Jimmy's.

"Back away from her. Slowly stand, put your hands on on your head. Now" Rick's voice came from the kitchen doorway, deep and steady, opening the door walking through it followed by two deputies. His gun poised, ready to shoot.

Jimmy looked down at Beth. His face was contorted into rage, his eyes, normally a deep blue were black. Two soulless oily holes staring into her depths. He looked over his shoulder, three men, three guns, all pointed at his head.

To her shock he backed up off her and stood, putting his hands to his head.

"That's it. Don't be stupid. Keep backing up." Rick told him.

. . .

As Daryl and Carl made there way into the clearing of the house, only then did he stop. Turning to Carl, he told him "Go into the barn. Do not come out till someone comes gets ya'. Ya' hear me?"

Carl nodded, and did as he was told.

Daryl could hear a commotion coming from in the house. Rick's voice penetrated the walls. Calm, but authoritative.

Going around to the front of the house. Stealthy, entering through the front door, feeling inadequately unarmed. Sneaking through the living room, hidden by shadows, no one was paying any attention in his direction anyhow. Rick, and the two sheriff's-deputies, stood at the kitchen door. Beth on the floor and Jimmy standing with his hands on his head. It took everything he had not to barrel through the house, to get his hands on Jimmy. His training told him otherwise, his training taught him to be cool, level headed. To remove himself from the situation, whatever the situation may be. This was different. Personal. No one threatened his woman and lived to tell about it.

"Now turn," Rick demanded of Jimmy.

He slowly turned, a crazed look on his face, eyes falling on Daryl.

"Screw you," he said, through clenched teeth, a scary joker-like smile split his face. In the flash of an instant he ran for the large window of the kitchen along the sidewall, and flew through the screen they had left open the night before.

"Damn it!" Rick yelled and ran to the window, taking aim, but Jimmy was already around the corner of the house. Daryl ran back through the front door and around the house. Jimmy was well ahead of him, the deputies and Rick just behind Daryl. Rounding the barn, he gave chase, he was gaining ground on them.

No. He wasn't going to get away. He couldn't.

But then, there was Carl, standing at the barn doors, bow raised.

"Carl! No!" Daryl yelled to him. As much as he wanted Jimmy down, he didn't want it at the expense of a child having to live with it the rest of his life.

It was too late. Carl pressed the release and sent an arrow flying through the air. It shot clean through Jimmy's left thigh. He screamed out in pain and stumbled.

"Holy shit," Carl murmured under his breath, letting his bow slide from his grip to the dusty ground just as Jimmy fell to his knees.

Rick caught up to him, but not before Daryl did. Daryl dove at Jimmy, tackling him from behind. They rolled on the ground until Daryl was on top of him, hitting him over and over again in his pretty-boy face. He took perverse satisfaction in the pain that radiated up from his knuckles with every punch.

Rick, wanting nothing else than to sit back and watch as Daryl did what he, himself, wanted to do, he couldn't. He wrapped his arms around Daryl's upper turrso pulling him off Jimmy, leaving him dazed and bloodied.

"It's okay Daryl. You got him. He's given up."

Breathing hard, seeing red, Rick's words seeped into the deep anger that built up a wall of almost impenetrable rage.

"Dad! Look out." Carl yelled from where he stood only a few feet away, watching the commotion in stunned silence.

The world stood still, then the breeze kicked up, and he looked from Carl to Jimmy, who held a small pistol aimed at he and Daryl. It was a reflex, something he didn't really think of as Rick pulled his holstered gun and fired twice. One bullet hitting him right between the eyebrows and the second in the heart, if he had one. His body flew back to the ground, kicking up dust, his hand going limp as the pistol fell from his dead hand.

* * *

Daryl sat on the bed, with his back against the wall. Beth lay her head in his lap. She was almost inconsolable, hardly speaking, not looking at anyone, staring blankly at the wall. She didn't hear anyone, or didn't care which was probably more the case. She must of been in pain, jarring her shoulder again, a bruise bloomed at her face, as well as a cut above her eyebrow. The beginnings of a goose egg was forming on her temple.

She said nothing of it. Lying still with her hands on her belly; feeling every move, somersault and kick the baby made. Daryl helplessly ran his hand through her hair, whispering quietly, trying to offer her any comfort she would accept from him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Carol talked quietly. "Beth, you need to come with me to the hospital. Get checked out. That cut on your face will need a couple stitches. And Daryl here says you hurt your shoulder again." She didn't tell him as much, but he could tell by the way she moved that it was hurting her again. "We need to make sure the baby is okay. The baby's heartrate is fine, but we need to do an ultrasound. Just to be sure."

Beth said nothing.

Looking up to Daryl, Carol quietly said, "She's in shock."

Trying again to reach her, she rubbed Beth arm lightly in a motherly way. "Beth. You have to go get checked out," Carol reiterated.

"No!" Beth snapped, making Carol and Daryl jump.

"Beth," Daryl began, but she interrupted him.

"I said no. I ain't goin' nowhere. This is where I belong."

"No one's arguing that point, but…" Carol reassured her.

"I'm not leaving."

"Beth. It's over now." Daryl said, trying to reach her.

She sat up, wincing at the pain in her shoulder. "It's over? It's over." She looked at Daryl, tears streaming down her face. "It's not over. I pointed my gun at him. I've been waiting for that moment for months now. And I couldn't do it. I'll never forgive myself. Now he's still alive...and I…" a sob broke loose. "And I will always have him shadowing over me. Over us." She motioned to her belly.

Daryl put his hand on either side of her face, "Beth, he's dead. Rick shot him."

Slowly, Daryl's words sunk in. After Jimmy jumped out the window, and Rick and Daryl took off after him she had heard shouts and two gunshots, but she didn't allow herself to believe that it was the sound of the shots that killed him.

She began to sob harder. Her breath coming out in short hiccups.

"Jimmy is dead?"

"Yeah, babe. He won't be bothering you any more. I promise you that." Even though Daryl wasn't the one to pull the trigger, he was glad the deed was done and now they could finally move on with their life. Together. Just the two of them...well technically the three of them.

* * *

After Beth had calmed herself, she allowed Carol to take her back to her office, a small compromise. No hospital if nothing showed up alarming on the ultrasound. A quick examination by Carol told them her shoulder was not broken again, only jarred. Butterfly bandages held closed the cut above her eyebrow.

Quiet tears streamed down her face as she walked herself into Carol's office. She laid herself down on the examination table and held her breath as Carol squirted the goop on her belly and flipped on the ultrasound machine. Daryl sat next to Beth, propping his hip up onto the table, placing his left arm above Beth's head, holding tight to her hand with his right.

He was being brave for Beth. Stoic. It didn't fool her, though. She saw through the schrade. He was just as terrified as her. It was all too familiar, too reminiscent of when she was in the hospital unconscious. Ultrasounds are supposed to be happy and exciting times for the expectant parents. Not this life or death bulshit that kept recurring in their life.

Facing the screen away from them at first, Carol was quiet as she waved the wand around on her belly, occasionally pushing a button the keyboard the machine was hooked up too.

After a moment or two, Carol's face brightened, and she turned the screen to them.

"The baby seems fine." She reassured them for a second time in the baby's short life.

The tears that had been falling steadily sped up in intensity. "Really?" Beth sniffled.

"Uh uh. Heartbeats strong, moving around." Looking from the screen to Beth, then to Daryl, Carol asked, "Do you want to know?"

Whipping her face with a tissue Daryl had handed from a box on the bedside table, she asked, "Know what? You said the baby was fine."

"And it is." Carol smiled patiently. "Do you want to know if its a boy or a girl?"

"You can tell that?" Daryl asked. Again it wasn't something he put a lot of conscious thought towards before Beth got pregnant. Never thought if he wanted a son or daughter one day. To know the baby was healthy was enough for him for the day, but his curiosity was peaked.

"Yep."

Daryl looked down to Beth, his beautiful Beth. Her face, bruised and cut again, sent a pit to his stomach. She would heal though, this he knew for a fact. She was tough. She - together - would make it through.

"What do you think?" He asked Beth.

Her smile was like a break in the clouds allowing the sun to shine through. "I want to know." She decided then and there. She was growing weary of saying "the baby", "him or her" or "it', which she disliked the most. It wasn't an "it". It was a baby, afterall.

"Well, doc. You heard her. What's cookin'?" Daryl asked, making everyone laugh, lifting the mood exponentially.

A few more movements of the wand, Carol's eyebrows furrowed and then lifted. "You are having…"

* * *

It was strange, to say in the least, how what started out to be one of the worst days of her life, morphed into one of the best days of her life. The baby was fine and Daryl was there by her side, that was all that mattered.

She had yet to call Maggie but decided to do it tomorrow. Everything could wait. Right now all she wanted was for everyone to leave her and Daryl alone. After Carl had reassured them that he was fine after doing what he did and seeing what he saw. He was one brave kid, for sure. After Rick had taken their statements and after the medical examiner had pronounced Jimmy dead and taken the body away, (while they were in town, thankfully). Beth felt she could breath again, for the first time in months, really.

Laying propped up on her pillows, accepting of Carol's prescription of rest, she patted the bed next to her.

"Come here."

"Do you need somethin'?" He asked as he sat on the edge of the bed. He may as well be a mile away. _We aren't going to do this again_ , Beth thought determined.

"Yeah, you." Beth sat up, not giving him a chance to back away, she crawled over to straddle his lap.

"Beth, you're hurt."

"Oh don't start that bullshit again."

"I jus' don't want to hurt you."

Beth's face looked down, then up through the tops of her eyes. Sexy innocence. "You won't. I promise."

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Beth, what can I do?" He hated feeling helpless.

"Make love to me."

It was such a simple request, one he wanted to fulfill. So, lightly he placed a kiss to her lips. Beth angled her head, taking the kiss deeper, nipping at his bottom lip. She reached for the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head, doing the same with her own.

Tired, bruised but not damaged. She was strong. Independent. Perfect. She was his and he was solely hers. At this point, he would do anything she asked of him.

"I need you. Need your hands on me. I need you to touch me." To wash away all traces of Jimmy and of the events of the day. "I need you inside me, Daryl."

He grabbed her by the waist swooping her gently down to the mattress and gave her what she wanted, what the both needed.

Wasting no time, he rid them of their dusty and bloodied clothes, Daryl plunged deeply into her. Beth let out a yell of sweet pain, as she adjusted to his mass. Pulling him closer with her legs, holding tight to him and the life they had built together in such a short amount of time.

Daryl expected them to fall into bed and sleep soundlessly after the day they had, but apparently Beth had other plans. Their lovemaking was frantic, life reaffirming. Amazing. And just when he thought it couldn't get any better, it did. Just when he thought she had taken him to the edges of sanity with her hands, her mouth, her body, she pushed him even closer to the edge. And when her body began to stiffen, her moves becoming more rigid, he knew she was close, he slowed. Even though it almost killed him, he stopped. Raising his head, he gazed down at her, to see her flushed cheeks, the glossy look of ecstasy in her eyes.

"Don't stop," Beth moaned.

He wanted to make her come, wanted to feel the clasping of her body around his. But, he also wanted to lavish in this; in the moments before she did. How she looked. Her breathless words. Her tense body.

"I love you, Beth." His voice, vulnerable. Hoarse with emotion, because, damn, he did love her.

Beth tightened her legs around his waist, clasping her ankles. Holding on for life, feeling his pulsing cock in the deepest velvety depths of her body. "I love you too. Now please," she all but begged, "make me come."

It seemed impossible, but he dove deeper. Still holding back. Slow, slick, deliberate movements. Cupping her breast, brushing past her belly to find that sweet spot between her thighs with his calloused fingers. And he almost lost any and all control when she shuddered and her eyes rolled back in her head. Applying the slightest of pressure, the tiniest friction, and he had her skyrocketing into the unseen relham of delirium.

. . .

Their breathing had finally returned to normal, the sweat from their love making shined slightly on their bodies, and they lay intertwined, waiting for sleep to overtake them.

His hand slid down to her stomach so often now she hardly noticed when he did it. This time, when his hand laid over her bare belly, her eyes locked with his. "Amazing, ain't it?" She asked as the baby seemed to be practicing karate.

Daryl still wasn't used to feeling the movement, it seemed like such a personal, intimate thing to happen between mother and child, that he didn't want to intercede. Just the same, he wanted to feel it.

Feeling two kicks in quick succession, and then something pushing back against his hand. "Damn!"

"Crazy, huh?"

"Uh huh. I think you got a linebacker in there."

"He does have a strong kick."

"Yes, he does. Told ya' we was havin' a boy," she smirked, nuzzling into Daryl's neck.

"Yep, you called it."

After a few moments of blessed silence, the only sound was of the wind through the trees, Daryl lowered his lips to Beth's. "Well, are you gonna'…"

"Gonna what?" Beth was confused. Weren't they just talking about the baby moving?

"Let me do right by you."

"What are you talkin' 'bout?" She asked around a yawn.

"What I mean is," he rolled over on top of her, brushing her hair from her face. "I've floated through life. Never thought I'd have a family. Hell, I never thought I wanted one. But here you are. And here he is," Daryl motioned with his head to her belly. "And I want to do what is right. So, are ya' gonna marry me?"


	19. Chapter 19 - She's Just Gone

**Wow a day or two early! You can probably tell by the title that this chapter is going to be a bit bumpy. So hang in there. ;) Thank you all so much for reading/commenting!**

* * *

She's Just Gone

"So you shot him?" Lori asked Rick while laying in bed, neither able to sleep. Rick had been quiet when he and Carl had finally arrived back home. Lori was, as expected, upset. She sent her son out for his first real hunt, to shoot a deer. Not a person! Even though Carl was fine, even excited about the day's events; his first buck then helping his Sheriff father take down a 'bad guy', Lori was less than happy about it all.

"Yes," Rick answered the thousandth answer to the thousandth question of the day. He couldn't say he blamed Lori for wanting to know exactly what happened since Carl had been involved. Right now, though, he just wanted to close his eyes and let the comfort of sleep surround him.

"Don't worry, Lori. Carl will be fine." Rick reassured Lori. "Hes got a good head on his shoulders. He understands that Jimmy was a bad man, wanted by the law. That if I hadn't shot him, he would of shot one of us. Carl understands right from wrong."

"I know. He's just my baby." She knew the ridiculousness of the statement. Still, he was their only child and no matter how much Carl or Rick protested, he would always be her baby.

She put her hand on her stomach, above her empty womb. When they were young and newly married, they had, very naively, thought they would easily fill the bedrooms of their house. And they had gotten pregnant with Carl easily enough. After that, though, nothing, and not for lack of trying. Lori told herself she should be happy they, at least, had Carl. They were blessed with Carl. He was smart, caring, if not a little - or a lot - precocious. Still, a part of her was afraid she would always feel this emptiness for who they didn't have.

"Lori, he's not a baby anymore."

"I know that." Clearing her throat of emotion, she took a deep breath and calmly added, "And I know he's a good kid. You raised him up right."

Rick glanced in her direction, seeing her outline in the dark. He reached out to her, touching her hair, "We, we raised him right." Pulling her closer, her head resting on his shoulder. Just like they use to, once upon a time, long ago.

"We could try again, ya' know." Rick said, his lips resting on the top of her head, breathing in the sweet smelling shampoo she always used.

"Try what?"

"For another baby."

Lori let out a laugh. He couldn't be serious. "You really think that's a good idea?"

He shrugged his shoulder. "Have you ever once regretted having Carl?"

Silly question. "Of course not."

"Well then, there are no guarantees. For us, or anything for that matter. I know I love you, no matter what happens."

They let that conversation and its implications hang in the air, letting sleeping dogs lie. For the time being. The prospect of another child was heavy. Not one to take lightly.

After a few moments, Rick said, "Tomorrow we have to go back out to the farm. Get Carl's buck. You should come."

"Yeah, sure. How is Beth, is the baby okay?"

"Fine. She's tough. She has Daryl."

Jimmy was dead and Philip Blake was long gone, the case was more or less at a standstill. Daryl never was under his employment, in an official manner anyway. He could stay or he could go. Though, he knew Daryl wasn't going anywhere. All in all, it worked out well. Rick liked the idea of having his old friend back in his life.

"Daryl seems like a good guy, Carl has sure taken a liking to him."

"Yep…" Of course, Daryl staying on at the farm brought up a whole other issue. He wouldn't be able to keep his and Daryl's past a Lori any longer. _Now's your shot Rick,_ he told himself. It was time to come clean.

They laid in each other's arms for a while longer when Rick broke the silence. "I need to tell you somethin'."

"Oh?"

Just say it, quick like ripping off a bandaid. Deep breath, and… "I've known Daryl for a long time. From the time we were boys."

"What do ya' mean?" She leaned up on her elbow.

"We grew up together. Then we joined the army together. Fought alongside each other. He saved my ass more times than I can count. We were as close as brothers."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"By the time I met you, Daryl and me had been out of touch for a long time." Lame, but it was the truth.

"Does Beth know?"

Rick rolled his shoulders, "Not sure. But there is more..."

* * *

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was what happened that day, but tears came to her eyes again. Almost killing your ex-husband, finding out you couldn't do it, only for him to actually be killed moments later, will wreak havoc on a person's psyche.

Or the tears were because everything she ever truly wanted was right in front of her, right at her fingertips. A partner that respected who she was. Someone who just accepted her for who she was. Someone who wanted to walk beside her. Help her. Share a life together. A healthy baby boy on his way. Her farm. Her animals. A simple life and someone to share it with, that's what she wanted.

They hadn't even talked of marriage. And now out of the blue he asks her to marry him? What surprised her even more was how much she _wanted_ to be his wife. Before Daryl, she had pegged herself as an old spinster hermit living out the rest of her life on the farm as a perpetual single woman. The townsfolk would talk about that crazy old woman that lived on the farm. They would point and talk in hushed tones when she did make it to town once or twice a year. And, quite honestly, she was fine with that. Had grown accustomed to the idea even.

That wasn't what she wanted at all though. She wanted Daryl. To be his wife. Have a whole gaggle of kids and grow old with each other. The whole nine yards. No one knew her. Not the real her. How she cried in her room when life became too much when no one could hear her tears. How she drove too fast with the radio at full blast. The way she liked to walk quietly along the path surrounding her property. The way she sang when no one was around.

Except Daryl.

He knew her. She could be herself around him. She had allowed him into her little world. Not only did he accept her and the way she lived, he appeared to want the same life for himself. To share that life with Beth. But mostly, mostly, it was the way he looked at her. He looked at her like all women wanted to be looked at by a man. Like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

"Yes. Yes I'll marry you."

"Really?" A smile spread his lips, he couldn't believe he got so lucky.

Leaning her head up she traced kisses over his face, a laugh rippling through the air. "Yes!"

Jimmy's words came back to her then, what he told her had previously gotten lost in the chaos of the day. Now, they came barreling back, like a sucker punch to the gut. She really didn't want to know if what he said was the truth, afraid it would change everything. On the other hand, they couldn't go through life with these huge secrets hanging over their heads. If he fought in Afghanistan, which was a pretty big thing, what else didn't she know about him. He knew everything there was to know about her. Everything. Essentially, she knew nothing about him.

Daryl lips grazed down her neck, his fingers were in her hair, her body was beginning to respond to his touch again. Beth had to focus, she forced the words out. "First. First, will you tell me what you did? When you were floating around." She asked, using his own words.

"Beth…" He intoned, rolling off her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I want to know everything about you. You can understand that, can't you?"

He nodded. Of course he understood. How could you marry someone you really didn't know. He had to do. Had to tell her. He had to come clean, even if it changed everything.

. . .

"You're a Special Agent? With the FBI?" Beth asked on a snort of disbelief, a slight smile on her face. Jimmy had said he was in the Army. Nothing was wrong with that. But, a special agent? With the FBI? That was more than she would've ever guessed.

"Yeah, Rick was unsure how to handle this whole situation on the limited staff he has, he called me in on a favor. We grew up together."

"Right." She like the word drag out. "And I'm the Princess of Wales. You're so full of shit." She shoved his shoulder playfully.

"Beth," a look of stern soberness on his face, his jaw bones jutted as he ground his back teeth. "I'm serious."

"That makes no sense." Sitting up in bed, running her hands through her tangled hair. The more she thought on it the more it _did_ make sense. Daryl just showing up out of the blue one day. The obvious and instant camaraderie between he and Rick. His sudden liking to Carl. His wanting to help him. Beth's heart began to drum in her ears. She crawled out of bed and picking her night shirt up off the floor she pulled it over her head.

Standing in front of him, she put her hands on her hips. "You were a drifter, needing work. A place to stay." It had seemed strange at the time, now it seemed all the more outlandish.

"I needed to find a way into your life...so I could watch out for Blake, then Jimmy became involved…and then it became more about watching over you than anything."

"You lied to me?" Beth whispered, a quake sounding in her voice. Still not wanting to believe the truth that glared her in the face. She couldn't believe he would mislead her in such a way.

"It was necessary Beth. I know I should've told you sooner. But, as time went on, the harder it got."

"Well boo-the-fuck-hoo. You shoulda' 'tried harder. You lied to me? About everything?"

"That's not true. The way I feel about you. The way I feel about our baby. That's all true." He quickly went on, "We knew that the people that live out here like to take care of their own. We knew you wouldn't let no FBI Agent or even a Sheriff anywhere near you." He reached out to touch her, but she jerked away from him. Her rebuff sent a stabbing pain through his heart.

Beth knew what he said was true, that didn't take away the sting. "And that gives you a right to trick me?" Her anger was beginning to grow, starting in the pit of her stomach and shooting upward.

He put his hands up in defense. "I tried to resist you at first. To ignore what I felt for you. 'Cause I knew it was wrong. But, I jus' couldn't. I knew from the beginning that I loved you. And that was no lie."

Beth looked down, he thought maybe she was crying, when she looked back to him her eyes were dry, filled with anger, a wicked storm brewing under the surface. "You lied about everything! I bet you lied about your brother. I bet you liked about your parents!" It was a line connecting the two of them. They'd both lost their parents in one way or another. They shared that pain.

"My Ma' lives in Atlanta, she didn't die." Shame burned in his cheeks. "I don't know where my brother is, my daddy did die. That wasn't a lie. I needed to get close to you at first, needed to find a way in. But then I …. "

"Shut up!" She yelled, stopping his words on lips before they came out. "Don't you have a soul?"

"Beth…"

"No! Don't touch me." She found a pair of jeans discarded from the day before on the floor, shoving her legs into them.

"Where ya' goin'? It's past midnight."

She was afraid to stay, yet afraid to go. She wanted things to stay as they were, that seemed impossible now. Everything had changed between them. "Don't matter. When I get back, you better be gone."

His heart shattered. "Beth don't do this."

"I didn't do this. You did. I was so stupid...to allow myself to fall in love with you." She prided herself on her smarts, her common sense, her independence. The idea of being without him, of raising this child without him, terrified her.

The pain and regret mixed on his face, ripping her heart in two, so she looked away. And to think, she was all set to marry him moments ago.

The clincher, though, was that she still wanted to marry him. She still loved him. Still, he lied to her. He broke her trust. You didn't just get that back with an 'I'm sorry'.

He didn't want to play dirty, but..."What about the baby?" Still sitting on the bed, he leaned forward, encircling her belly with his hands, leaning his forehead against it. "Don't give me this, jus' to take it away." As if he knew it was Daryl, the baby rolled against his forehead, adding to the tightness he felt in his throat.

Her resolve crumbled when his voice hitched. Relenting, running her fingers through his hair, she stepped back. She had to get out, to get away. To think about things and she couldn't do that staring at his broken hearted face. Turning on her heal, she ran out the door and down the stairs.

Daryl was unsure what to do. Go after her? Much like a wounded animal, that would inevitably drive her further away. Or he could wait her out. In his indecision, frozen where he stood, he heard her Scout jump to life and tear down the driveway.

* * *

"What is it?" Lori asked after Rick disconnected the call from his personal cell phone. It was still dark out, well past midnight which meant that phone call was not good news. It never was at that hour.

"That was Daryl, Beth took off."

Lori leaned up on her elbows, awake now. "Took off. What do you mean she took off?"

"I'm not sure. I have to go out there. He has no vehicle, no way to find her."

Lori threw back the covers, "I'm goin' with you."

. . .

Leaving Carl in the care of a neighbor they left for the farm. Daryl answered the door, disheveled clothes, hair mussed, looking basically like hell. If he was surprised to see Lori with Rick, he didn't show it. Lori was glad that Rick hadn't discouraged her coming with him. She was worried about her new friend out in the dark of night, pregnant, alone and angry. She wanted to help if she at all could.

"What do you mean she took off?" Rick asked him, he had brewed coffee and steaming cups sat in front of them as they gathered around the small kitchen table.

Daryl rolled his shoulders, "She's just gone."

"We'll find her, or she will come back. She will." Lori reassured Daryl, patting his hand that lay outstretched on the table.

"I told her who I was. That I'd been lying to her all this time. I wouldn't blame her if she never wanted to come back and by the way it looks, she doesn't."

"So you jus' gonna' give up?" Rick asked.

Daryl stood, paced the kitchen. Everywhere he looked it reminded him of Beth. It was her kitchen so that only made sense, but he could feel her here. Her scent wafted through the air. He could almost hear her laughter. Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw her smile painted on the backs of his eyelids. And then he saw her crestfallen face.

"I really fucked things up. She's pregnant. I'm not going to desert her, or our child. I don't know what I can do to get her back. Don't even know how to find her."

"Well I do." Rick could help Daryl for a change.

. . .

It paid to know the right people in life Daryl decided. Rick put the police officers that were out on patrol on the lookout for a bright blue Scout International Jeep. Then he and Rick went back to town leaving Lori back at the farm if, by chance, Beth came back. Their first stop was Maggie's house.

"Ya' gonna go to the door or just stare at it?" Rick asked when all Daryl did was stay in the Bronco, looking out the window.

"She ain't here."

"Or...her Scout is hidden in the garage."

"What if she doesn't take me back, not that I'd blame her?"

Rick had never known this side of Daryl before. He was always confident, borderline cocky. He was straight up cocky when they were teens. This self-doubting was something Rick had never seen in Daryl. Making it a point to not let anyone in like he had Beth. Sure, he cared for his friends, and for his brother. But a woman? Never. Not like this. Maybe this was why, he didn't want to risk losing her.

"Want me to go in? I'll talk to 'em." Rick offered.

"Na'."

"Well alright then, man up Dixon!" Rick said, cupping his friend on the shoulder.

Daryl took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out onto the damp pavement.

Apparently, at some point in the night it had rained, Daryl was too preoccupied to notice.

Turning back, looking back through the open door of the Bronco, "Hey Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"No problem, you're my brother."

Daryl was touched but he'd be damned if he let on, so he nodded. "Oh and if you ever tell me to 'man up' again. I will kick your ass."

Rick let out a belly laugh, not in the least worried.

It was nearing six in the morning and a light shone through the high window in the front door, he didn't want to wake them but, maybe they were already awake.

He raised his hand and knocked. After a moment Glenn opened the door. "Hey, I've been expecting you."

"Ya' have?"

"Yeah, Beth was here."

"But she's not now." Maggie said coldly from the living room.

Daryl stepped around Glenn, "I need you to tell me where she's at."

"And why would I do that? All I see is the man that lied to my sister, got her pregnant."

Daryl looked at his feet, "I suppose that is what you would see. Ya' also gotta' see I am the man that loves your sister. And the baby. I wanted to marry her, I want to marry her," he amended. "I just need to find her. Need to know she is safe."

Maggie stood with her arms crossed over her chest, her robe pulled tightly closed. The expression on her face just as closed.

"Listen, I'm not a man of many words, but damn it Maggie, I need to find her."

Maggie took a deep breath, she wanted Beth to be happy. It was obvious how much they cared for one another. If she wasn't so angry she would be able to admit, grudgingly, that it was romantic that he came all this way just to find her. Yes, he was a good man but when her baby sister showed up at her house at two in the morning, in tears because he had lied to her, she, quite frankly, wanted to strangle him.

"To be honest. I do not know where she is now."

Daryl looked at her suspiciously.

"Really. She left here about a half hour ago." Glenn reassured him. "Not saying where she was going."

" 'Scuse me…" Rick said, standing behind Daryl in the doorway. "I just got a tip from one of my guys. Spotted a Scout heading west on 214."

"That's probably her. If you want to catch her, you better hurry." Maggie interceded, surprising them both.


	20. Chapter 20 - Home

**A shorty but a goodie. Sorry it's late. I've been dealing with migraines. Ick. Thanks so so so much for reading. :)**

* * *

 

Home

After waking poor Glenn and Maggie out of a sound sleep, scaring them half to death, she and Maggie sat on the back porch, steaming cups of coffee in their cupped hands to ward off the late night/early morning chill. Glenn and Maggie's home was small, but quaint. Blue siding, white shutters. A white fence skirted the back of the property. A two seat swing set sat in the far off corner. Beth imagined spending cookouts here. Glenn and Daryl manning the grill. Maggie and Beth inside talking while preparing the macaroni salad, looking through the kitchen window as their boy toddled to to the swing set begging to be pushed. Focusing on everything but what Maggie was saying, she wondered if maybe by then Glenn and Maggie would have their own baby and what would Daryl and Beth's baby look like.

"Hey, are you listenin' to me?" Maggie asked, snapping her fingers.

Jumping back to reality from her momentary reprieve of daydreams, she answered, "Yes. I'm listenin'." Beth was beginning to regret coming here. Her sister had droned on and on about being responsible and not running off every time there was a little issue. Okay, maybe it'd only been five minutes, but still…

"This is more than just a little tiff." Beth clarified.

"Yes, he lied to you. Do I need to tell you it was for you're own good?"

"For my own good?" Damn it, if she would of wanted to see his side of things, she would of stayed at home and listened to him. Incredulous, Beth stared at her sister. "You takin' his side now?

"I'm not takin' sides here, I'm Swiss, babe" Maggie joked. "I'm jus' sayin' he did it to protect you. And no matter all of his shortcomings, that's pretty damn admirable."

"So you're fine with him spyin' on me and lyin' to me?"

"Listen, and I say this in the nicest way possible..."

Beth rolled her eyes. When Maggie said that, she knew her next words would be anything but what Beth wanted to hear. And, admittedly, maybe she did come here to be a tiny bit placated. Maggie was her sister, shouldn't she be on _her_ side?

"You are pregnant!"

Beth looked down over her rounded belly. "Duh, Maggie." Anybody with eyes could see that.

"Don't get smart with me, missy." Though she smiled when she said it, Maggie's tone said she was serious. "You have to make this work out. You can't just be takin' off in the middle of the night because you don't like somethin' he did. Hell, if I took off everytime Glenn bugged me, I'd be gone all of the time."

"This is more than a little somethin' though. He didn't load the dishwasher wrong."

Damn it, this wasn't going the way she hoped at all. She wanted her sister to be as pissed off as she was. She didn't want a lecture.

"He's a special agent, not the head of a drug cartel." Maggie tried to reason with Beth.

"But this changes everything." Tears that Beth thought had dried up long ago, sprang once again to her eyes.

Sympathy played on Maggies face. She did feel for her sister. But upon finding out Daryl was, in fact, a special agent and not some creeper off the street, she felt immensely better about him.

"It only changes everything if you let it, Beth."

* * *

 

Both Maggie and Glenn wanted Beth to stay, she refused, knowing that would probably be the first place Daryl would look for her. If he did come looking for her. Having no vehicle of his own would impede any chivalrous acts he may think of doing.

And, just maybe she didn't want to be found yet. So, now she was just driving to nowhere in particular. Windows rolled down, radio turned up, no destination in mind. As the breeze blew through her hair and the baby bounced around to the music, her anger began to fade. So he was in the Army. And fought in Afghanistan. That was something to be proud of. If what he said were true; that even though he was a FBI agent, that didn't change the way he felt about her, the way he felt about them. Then why should _she_ let it change anything.

_It only changes everything if you let it, Beth._

 

She also hated to admit it, but Maggie was right. She was pregnant. They were in a serious relationship now. Couldn't just run off because she was angry with him.

The fact that he kept it from her for so long, snaked through her mind. If he lied about that, something so big, what else could he lie about? What if he was married, had kids in some other town, in some other state?

She laughed at her own ridiculousness.

He didn't tell her because he couldn't. Special Agents had to keep their cover. And in all fairness, he was right thinking she wouldn't let him or Rick anywhere near her.

Still, she did not like to be tricked and she did not like to be lied to. Rolling her eyes she decided she needed to get back home. Things would be better after a few hours of sleep.

Pulling to a stop at a light, considering heading back home, blue and red lights flashed in her rearview mirror.

"Shit," She should've stuck to the back roads, putting the Scout in park she knew she did nothing to be pulled over and wasn't the least bit surprised to see Rick's long legs climb out of the Bronco.

She leaned out her window as he walked up to her truck. "Did I do something wrong officer?" She questioned innocently.

"Well, no. I wouldn't say you did."

"Right. So this is official police business then?"

"Na' more like a friend tryin' to help out another friend."

She rolled her eyes and leaned her head back on the headrest. Rick quickly went on before she had a chance to say anything in response. " Naw', I don't blame you for being pissed. For taking off. But, you gotta' look at it from Daryl's point of view. I asked him to find you, ta' seek you out. Really, it's my fault."

Not quite ready to concede that, she asked, "You Daryl's spokesman now?"

"Na' just his chauffeur." Rick said, nodding toward Daryl who stood at the passenger side of the Scout.

"Shit." Beth said again, closing her eyes for a moment. "Rick? Remind me to kick your ass when I'm not so tired."

"Sure thing." He said, smirking, he tipped his hat and walked back to his truck as Daryl slid into the Scout's passenger seat. They were obviously meant for eachother, both of them threatening to kick his ass in the same night.

"What do you think you're doin'?" Beth questioned, when Daryl locked his seat belt into place.

"Strapping in. It's the law ya' know." He gave her that sweet crooked smile.

"Your sexy little smile ain't gonna' make everything right, ya' know."

"No, but maybe this will." He leaned over the bucket seats, stretching the seat belt as far as it'd go, and touched his hand along her jawline, placing a light yet meaningful kiss to her lips. His hand dropped from her face to her belly where their baby kicked at him.

"I love you, Beth. And I will never lie to you again. I'm done with the FBI. I want to spend the rest of my life on the farm with you."

"You lied to me."

"I did." Now was the time to be upfront if there ever was. "I've been through literal hell. I've been through war.  The things I've seen. The things I've had to do. No one should ever have to do." He paused, gathering himself, never the greatest at saying what he meant, "The idea of losing you...it's more than I can do. I would go on, continue to live a kinda' subexsistencd, but a part of me will always be here with you. That baby is a part of me. Half you and half me. I ain't turning my back on either of you. So, you can curse me, you can even hate me because deep down, I know you love me. I _know_ you do. And I can wait a lifetime for your hate to subside, if it means I can still be with you."

What could she do? Ignore him, ignore what they have. Pretend he doesn't exist. Deep down, though, she knew - this was not how it was supposed to end.

Taking in all he said, essentially pouring his honest soul out to her, she asked, "Why are you quitting the FBI?"

"I already retired from it, it's not for me anymore. I chose it because I wanted out of Georgia. I could move around. Never settle in one place. I thought that's what I wanted."

"And then what? What changed your mind?"

"You did."

"Oh." Such a small word that conveyed so much. His words were like salve soothing her singed soul.

Beth felt emotionally drained, exhausted, and her shoulder hurt like hell. She couldn't wait to crawl into bed with Daryl and close her eyes. She was getting too old, too pregnant for these sleepless nights. She wanted to start fresh with Daryl. No lies, no secrets. Just the two of them...well, the three of them.

She put her hand on the gear shifter and shifting into drive, she said, "Let's go home."

* * *

 

And just like that, much to Daryl's dumbfoundedness, she forgave him. He was beginning to learn she could be piss mad one second and then over it the next. For that, and for her in general, he was thankful. Lord know's how many times he had messed up in life and will mess up in the future, he needed her forgiveness.

By the time they returned to the farm, bidding good-bye to Lori and Rick, it was early morning. Daryl isnsited Beth lay down and rest for a bit while he did morning chores. The ever present Echo fell in step beside him. She was becoming as much his own as she was Beth's. Daryl tried not to read too much into her behavior, but Echo had been skittish. No wonder, things had been crazy the last couple of days. She followed him close, stuck by his side while he went through the regiment of morning chores. When he was through, Echo followed him into the house, she took her usual spot on the cool kitchen floor, resting her chin on her outstretched legs before closing her eyes. Finally able to rest now that they were both home.

Climbing the steps up to the second level of the house, he hoped things would calm down now with Jimmy out of the picture indefinitely. Maybe they could have some peace before the baby comes and their lives would be upheaved in a whole other way. Stopping momentarily at the bedroom across the hall from the room he shared with Beth, the one that would become the baby's room, he stood in the doorway. It was painted a dull grey, a single bed in one corner and a tall backed dresser tucked into the other corner. Overall the room was in good shape. The wall's needed painting and they would have to find a crib somewhere. He had no idea what a baby needed. A crib. Diapers. Clothing. They would figure it out together. Taking a deep breath, he left the room and quietly made his way back to their bedroom.

The curtains pulled over the windows casted shadows throughout the room, the sun diffused through the grey fabric. Beth must had taken a quick shower because her hair, sprawled out over the pillow, was damp. Laying on her side, knees tucked up slightly, she wore a green t-shirt that was too big. One of Daryl's. The sudden intake of breath caught him off guard. He realized he did know one thing that a baby needed. And that was love. A baby needed love and he and Beth had impenetrable depths for each other as well as their little boy.

Leaning against the dresser, palms resting on the cool wood, head hanging downward, he tried valiantly to get his emotions in check. He reflected how strange it was to love someone so much you hadn't even met yet. Maybe he was feeling sentimental, or he was just plain tired. Either way, he felt such immense love for Beth and the baby that his throat began to tighten. Tears burned the back of his eyes. He had been so close to losing her. To losing the baby. Never again would he allow that to happen.

He must of been mistaken thinking Beth was asleep, because when he turned back to the bed, she was sitting up, silently watching him. Her hand resting on her belly.

"Thought you was sleepin'?" He asked, pulling his shirt over his head, he turned back to the dresser, his gaze meeting hers in the mirror.

"Couldn't sleep without you next to me." She smiled sweetly.

Idly he picked up the broken music box he'd examined the time he'd snuck into her room, carrying it over to the bed. Sitting down in front of her on the mattress he handed it to her.

Questioning him with her eyes, he gestured with his chin, "Open it."

Confused, she did as he asked. The little pink tutued ballerina popped up and began spinning around. Instead of dancing to a musicless tune like it had since she was about ten, Swan Lake sounded through the bottom of the tiny box. Her childhood came swarming back so vivid she could almost reach out and touch it. Playing the music over and over again, dancing around, an unpracticed ballerina. Making up her own words to the music.

Listening for a few moments, she finally looked up to Daryl, tears in her eyes. "You fixed it?"

He nodded. "Last night, after you left. I didn't know what to do. I wandered around the house, every little thing reminded me of you. I ended up in here."

"It hasn't worked in years," she spoke more to herself than Daryl.

"It jus' had some grit in the gearbox."

"Thank you, Daryl."

Together they lay down placing the music box, still playing, on the end table. Instinctively, Daryl's arms went around Beth and she snuggled back into him. Her back to his front, they fit perfectly, like two pieces to a completed puzzle.

Just as he closed his eyes, her voice, just above a whisper sounded through the silence, "Tell me something."

Lifting his head to hear her better, he asked, "What?"

She rolled onto her back, as he leaned up on his elbow. Looking up at him, reaching up she tucked his shaggy hair back. "Tell me something. 'Bout when you were in the army. Or when you were a child. I want to know you. All of you."

"What do you wanna' know?"

"Everything.." She really didn't know anything about him. "Start at the beginning. Tell me about your Mama. She _is_ alive, right?"

How could he deny her this? He had lied enough to her, as well as his time as an agent, to last a lifetime. As an agent you never told the full truth, never trusted anyone. You never knew if the person you were dealing with was someone you could trust. So you didn't trust anyone. It occurred to him then how utterly tired he was of lying.

That was his past. Things were different now. Beth was his future. To begin their new life together he needed to be upfront. Honest.

"Yes. She is alive. I'm sorry I lied to ya' 'bout that. It was just..." searching for the right word, "easier."

Beth nodded, "Go on."

"She left when I was 'bout seven. I saw her off 'n on after that. Merle wanted nothin' to do with her. I didn't much either. I was so pissed at her. Ya' know? For leavin'. Leavin' me with them. But, as I got older, I realized my daddy didn't make it easy for her to see us."

"She had to save herself," Beth said quietly.

"Uh huh. I see that now."

Life was complicated, this much Beth knew. "It must not of been easy for her to leave her sons in that place. With a man like your father. When's the last time you talked to her?"

Daryl thought back, "Years. Before I was deployed."

….

* * *

**So a couple things... _"What changed your mind"_  is from _Alone_ and _"You did"_ is obviously what he wanted to say. ;)**

**_"It jus' had some grit in the gearbox"_ is from Maggie and Daryl's conversation in _Them_. **

**Also _"I'm not taking sides here, I'm Swiss, babe._ " is a great line from the show Gilmore Girls. lol **

**Thanks for reading. :) Comment and let me know what you think!**


	21. Chapter 21 - Uncertainties

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay. Hope you enjoy the chapter, it kind of bounces around. A put a Horizontal Line when there has been days in between the paragraphs and I put a . . . when it's the same day. If that makes any sense. lol**

**Thanks for reading!**

* * *

 

 

"Ya' sure you're gonna' be okay?" Daryl asked Beth one more time before heading out the door. He and Rick and Carl were leaving for a week long hunting trip further up the mountains. Daryl was less than enthusiastic about leaving Beth in her seventh month of pregnancy.

She didn't seem to mind at all though. In fact she insisted that he go. Reiterating she was pregnant, not sick. Perfectly capable of taking care of herself. And there was no reason for anyone to think the baby would make an early appearance. Carol reassured them the baby was staying put for the near future.

"Yes. Now go. This might be the last chance you'll get to do your manly bonding thing for a long time. After the baby comes I hear life can get kinda' crazy," she coaxed, wrapping her arms around his waist, which was becoming more and more difficult to do due to the roundness of her belly.

"I don't wanna' leave you alone." Not only because she was getting to be very pregnant, he just didn't want to leave her. Plain and simple. Who had he turned into he wondered, not for the first time. He purposely chose a profession that would keep him on the move. Now the prospect of a week, not even full week, four or five days max, of hunting couldn't drag him away from her.

"Pfftt." Beth sounded. "I ain't alone. I have Echo. Lori and Maggie." She nodded to the living room where Lori and Rick spoke quietly as Carl loaded up the final supplies. "Even Carol promised to drop in." Which was true enough, she had a prenatal checkup scheduled.

"Believe me. I probably won't be alone the whole time ya'll are gone." She rolled her eyes at that. She liked being alone and she feared Maggie may just smother her to death before the baby comes. She now visited the farm at least three times a week. Beth tried not to let Maggie's mothering bother her. She only did it because she cared.

Still knowing all this, a knot began to form in her stomach at the idea of Daryl not being there like she had become accustomed to. To fall asleep with every night. To share a meal with. To hold her if she became overly anxious, something that happened more and more with the impending birth of their son. He could just look at her and see what was inside her mind. All it took was for him to wrap his arms around her and emotion would overflow. He would hold her until the momentary storm passed. Neither needing any words to be spoken.

Refusing to be that girl that can't seem to live without her man for even a day, she took a breath. Putting on a brave face and ignoring her heavy heart, she told herself she would be fine. And she would be. Besides, she had some of her own detective work to do. And Daryl was best out of the way for that.

"Okay. I'll go. But when I come back, you gotta' do somethin' for me."

"What's that?" She purred, her mind automatically going to something a bit more intimate. He looked damn fine in his camouflage shirt with the sleeves torn off revealing his rippled arms that never seemed to lose their tan. His shaggy hair tucked under a camouflage hat. Work boots and faded Levis finished off his style of hardworking modern day cowboy.

"Marry me."

Not really what she had in mind, but not really surprised either. She teased, "Oh really? And why would you want me to do that?"

She wanted to marry him. Wanted to badly. Feeling gun-shy, she had put him off this far. She had to marry Jimmy because she was pregnant, and now she was pregnant again. It just felt too similar. Trying to be reasonable, she told herself over and over again it was two completely different situations, two completely different men. That didn't stifle the little annoying voice in the back of her head cautioning another wedding might be a bad idea. Daryl was a different man than Jimmy. But ultimately, she was the same girl. And what if Jimmy was right? What if she was poison to everyone she meets. Her brave facade was beginning to crumble.

Bringing her back from her thoughts, he grasped her chin and pulled her face up to his, placing a hard noisy kiss on her lips before pulling back. "'Cause I love you baby. You're my woman. I know you're scared, but I am gonna' be your husband. And soon. Before this baby is born." He promised. Or warned. Whichever it was, she would take it.

He had a way of bringing her back to reality like no one else with just a few words. Her heart melted as she clasped her fingers around the back of his neck and said, "Well, I guess you better hurry back then."

_Please hurry back…_

_. . ._

Lori and Beth stood on the porch waving to their men as they were off down the road, followed by cloud of dust and dirt. "Wow, I thought they'd never leave," Lori said around a good-humored laugh.

When Beth didn't return the laugh, Lori looked at her in time to see her wiping away a stray tear. Muffling a hick-up, she mumbled, "Ugh. This so stupid. They'll be back in a few days." Blinking rapidly, Beth tried to hold back her tears.

Putting an arm around her shoulder, Lori pulled her into the kitchen."Alright. Where's your stash of chocolate?"

Laughing through her tears, she pointed to a far corner cabinet and plopped down onto the kitchen chair. Her Little Debbie cupcakes didn't last long these days, so she had to resort to hiding a stash of candy elsewhere. She ate healthy the majority of the time, but a girl needed her sweets. Especially a pregnant one.

"It's not stupid," Lori reassured Beth as she fished out a bag of Mini-Snickers from the back of an upper cabinet. Sitting next to Beth at the table she ripped open the package and poured the entire contents onto the table. "I think it's sweet. Rick and I been married so long and he's always worked so much I don't really think about him bein' gone. I used to miss him something horrible. Now, things are different. You get to the point where you enjoy time apart."

Beth didn't miss the sudden sadness that crossed Lori's face. Picking up one of the small candy bars she handed it to Lori. "I thought ya'll were doing better?" Beth and Lori had become close. Lori had told her how they had almost lost their marriage to busy lives and just simply not taking the time to be together. She also told Beth how in the last few months things have majority improved.

Lori shook her head as though trying to shake off any lingering sadness. "Oh. We are doing good. Really good actually. I just get upset for the time we lost."

Unwrapping her second Mini-Snickers, Beth spoke around a mouthful of chocolate, "That's goo…"

Before Beth could finish the sentence, Lori interpreted her, "Beth, I'm pregnant."

Caramel and chocolate became stuck in her throat making Beth cough. Slapping her chest with the hand, she scolded halfheartedly, "Shit Lori! Don't tell that to someone when they have a mouthful of candy bar!" Beth half yelled, half laughed, swallowing what was let of her candy. Clearing her throat, she then asked, "You're pregnant? What the hell do you mean? "

Smiling, Lori pointedly gazed down to Beth's rounded stomach. "Well, honey. If you don't know by now..."

Beth laughed, her eyes now sparkling with cheer instead of sadness, "You're pregnant? As in having a baby? No way!"

Lori nodded, her smile broadening. "Yep. I took a test this morning. It turned pink right away."

"Holy shit!" Beth swore again.

"Dang girl, you gotta' quit swearin' like a trucker before that baby learns to talk."

Beth laughed again, delighted for her friend. "Does Rick know?"

Lori nodded. "He's pretty excited. Stunned, but excited. We had always wanted a big family. After Carl... nothin'. Doctors couldn't figure out why. No reason was apparent. We eventually just gave up hope. Stopped tryin'. I think that's where the distance began between us. I became withdrawn and he started working even more than he already did. And now all the sudden after a short while of trying I'm pregnant." A sound of astonishment hinted in her voice.

"Well damn" Beth joyfully slapped the palm of her hand onto the table top, jostling the Snickers. "I'll have to warn Maggie to not drink the water 'round here." She laughed, elated for Lori and Rick.

* * *

"Everything's set up. Scouted the area. Shoty cell service, wanted to text you before I went to sleep." Daryl had texted Beth later that night. The buzzing of her phone on the nightstand woke her. Fumbling with the phone, she read the words, squinting against the too bright screen.

She replied with sleepy fingers, "Okay, text or call when you can."

"What are you doin' up? It's late."

Beth read the time displayed on the screen. Sure enough it was midnight. When did midnight become late, she wondered vaguely. "Well, someone texted me. Woke me up."

Inside her head she heard his chuckle as she read his next text. "Go to sleep babe. I'll try to call you tmr."

* * *

Waking with a smile on her face, Beth had dreamt of her and Daryl walking down one of the paths of the farms. The weather was warm but a chill had set in which told her it was later in the summer. As the dream began to fade from her waking mind, she clung to the lighthearted warm feeling the dream left her with. Straining to remember what the dream was about , she remembered one thing; they were not alone. A little boy with the darkest cap of black hair toddled in front of them. The boy stumbled over his own little clumsy feet and he plopped down onto his little bum giving out a disgruntled cry. Daryl, taking two long strides, swooped down, picking him up and immediately the boy was soothed, the fall all but forgotten. Daryl turned with the child in his arms, the spitting image of him. Dark hair and steel blue eyes.

Beth swung her legs over the side of the bed, racking her brain. Trying to remember what Daryl had said to the boy...what he had called him. Had he called him Way? Yes. Waylon. Beth whispered the name, testing it out.

"Waylon." Yes, she liked it. It fit.

Wiping sleep from her eyes, she lumbered out of the bedroom, arching her aching back,heading toward the bathroom, the local she could be found the most in these last months of pregnancy. A sound coming from the room across the hall stopped her in her tracks, though. Frozen, she stood stock still, listening. More shuffling. Was that the sound of the window opening?

Retracing her steps, avoiding the familiar squeaky planks of wood, she made her way back to her nightstand. And her Glock. Picking it up she advanced toward the hall again. Heart banging in her chest with the gun in her hand pointed downward she pushed open the unlatched door. Across the room, the open window blew the lightweight curtains dancing ghostly in the air. Knowing she did not leave that window open she began to raise the gun. It didn't occur to her to retreat back and down the stairs. This was her home and she would defend it. Pushing the door open more...

"Oh, you're up!"

Beth jumped and stifled a scream, fighting the urge to the hold the gun outright. "Jesus Lori! You scared the crap outta' me!"

Beth had almost forgotten Lori had camped out on the couch. They got to talking the night before and before they knew it, it was late so Beth suggested Lori stay on for the night. Lori had said she hated being home alone at night anyhow, so she took her up on the offer. Picking the couch over the spare bedroom, which was her parents old bedroom. She said she didn't sleep well and would just camp out in the living room and watch television until she fell asleep. Beth felt comforted having her there.

Lori looked as surprised as Beth felt. "I'm sorry," she laughed. "I'm an early riser. I tried to be quiet."

Staring wide-eyed a slight tremble crept up her legs, her hand flexed on the Glock. Lori put down the paintbrush she held in her hand and really looked at Beth. Taking her by the shoulders, she peered into her pale face. "Ya' okay? I'm really sorry." Running her hands down her arms, noticing the gun for the first time. "Beth?" She questioned, concerned.

Catching a breath, Beth snapped to. "Yes. Ya' just startled me is all." Smiling fakely, and they both knew it, but let it slide.

Buried skeletons never stayed buried.

"You're sure now?" Lori asked.

"Yeah. Uh huh. I just forgot you were here." Looking around the room she noticed for the first time the drop cloth spread out on the floor. Cans of paint sat on the plastic. "What are you doin'?

Lori turned back to the room and taking a ponytail holder from where it was wrapped around her wrist and began to put her long chestnut hair into a ponytail. "Well. I thought it's 'bout time we get this room ready for the baby." Turning back to Beth, her face rather uncertain, "Is that alright? I'm sorry. Did I overstep?"

"Oh, no not at all. Thats a great idea. Let me go pee," because she was about to burst, "and I'll throw on some old clothes, we'll get to work."

"Great! But I get the ladder work and you get the lower work."

Beth had purposely put it off; the revamping of the spare bedroom into a nursery for the baby. She went to the hardware store with Daryl and reluctantly picked out a perfect shade of the lightest gray-green to paint the walls. Daryl was seemingly very excited about fixing up the room. Going about patching the small nail holes that accumulated over the years, removing the light switch and outlet covers.

He had also surprised her with a crib one day.

He and Carl had disappeared one afternoon in her Scout with a vague destination as an explanation, and returned hours later both of them wearing shit-eating grins, telling her to close her eyes as they helped her out to the porch. And there leaning against the railing, was a big box with a picture of a cherry wood sleigh crib on the side, boasting that it also converted into a twin sized bed.

Daryl had been so happy. She regretfully felt dread. Like planning would somehow mess things up. Would cause something bad to happen. Reasonably she knew that wasn't true. She was being irrational, but could not at all help it. So, when Daryl and Carl brought home the crib, or when he took her paint shopping or when Maggie offered to throw her baby shower, she smiled politely while her stomach lurched and panic surged.

It wasn't that she wasn't excited about the baby. She was excited. It was just more of a reserved excitement. She couldn't wait to hold him. To smell the top of his baby soft hair, if he had any. Would he have the dark hair and blue eyes that he did in her dream?

She couldn't wait to see Daryl as a father, positive he would be great at it. If living the way he lived, growing up the way he grew up, taught him anything it was how _not_ to be a dad. It was her own ability she questioned. Admittedly she didn't have that much experience with babies, or children in general. Often questioning herself; shouldn't she of known there was something wrong with Miriam? Some sort of motherly intuition? If she didn't know something that serious was wrong, how would she know when something little was wrong?

Splashing cold water on her face, Beth examined her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her cheeks were a little rounder, her eyes were clear and bright. Underneath all the uncertainty was happiness. Bringing herself from her reflection her phone buzzed once again. Not recognizing the number she answered it anyway, thankful for the distraction from her own thoughts.

* * *

The air was crisp and much cooler up in the mountains. Fog hung around mid air like smoke from the campfire that had yet to be lit. From his perch in the deer stand, Daryl sat still, watching. Taking in every sound, scent and movement; his sense in a heightened state, as always aware of his surroundings. It felt good to be out in the woods, where he belonged. He had always felt at home in the woods. Whether he was hunting or just wandering around some little known path. His heart belonged in the woods. Or, he corrected, it once belonged in the woods. Now he belonged with Beth and the baby. Wherever they were was where he would always be.

He tried valiantly to ignore the ache in his chest from being away from Beth. He wondered how she was feeling, if the baby was moving much. If she had gotten any rounder, because she seemed to grow every day. And he loved it. He never knew a pregnant woman could be so sexy.

Letting out a quiet chuckle. He'd been away from Beth only three days. It was hard to believe he'd spent half his lifetime without her. Half of his life wasted roaming aimlessly. Yes, he got the "bad guy" more than not during his stint as a Special Agent. He supposed, that was worth something. While it must of meant something to someone, it didn't mean a hill of beans to him. Being a solider, that was something to be proud of. But he looked at that time period in his life as though it were someone else. Looking at it from an outsider's point of view. Looking in from the outside, like a movie or a novel.

One thing he did know for sure is he was ready to go home. He was ready to become a husband and a father. To be present for the next half of his life. Just one more day. He could do that. Right?

Giving up on this morning's hunt, Daryl climbed down from his stand and made his way back to camp. Rick and Carl had been lucky, tagging out quickly. Daryl had no such luck. He chalked it up to being to distracted about other things. Of course RIck and Carl didn't take it easy on him any. Teasing him constantly, relating his inability to bag a deer to his manliness. It didn't bother him any, he just laughed and dished it right back to them.

All in all, minus missing Beth and the jabs at his manhood, he'd had a good time. Carl was turning into a better hunter than himself at that age and Rick, Daryl could tell, needed some time off to just relax, hangout by the campfire and get some fresh air into his lungs. And, as it turns out, Rick was going to be a dad. Again.

Life seemed to be finally working out. In a way he didn't even imagine it would. On his way back to camp he walked with a bit more speed. Maybe he could get the guys to go back early since they had met their quota. Daryl didn't care that he hadn't. He still had time to hunt back home on the farms property. If they packed up camp now, they'd be home in a couple of hours. Sounded like a good plan to Daryl.

. . .

"So, any complaints?" Carol asked Beth as she reclined on the couch after being measured and forced to weigh herself. Cringeworthy numbers still floated before her eyes. Which she tried to ignore. There were two people being weighed now.

"Just my back. Lori and I painted the baby's room the other day."

Carol looked at Beth pointedly. "I just did the lower half, honestly." Beth said, putting up her hands innocently. "But I guess bending over would make my back hurt too." Not to mention the four hours it took them to put together that damn crib.

"Well, you are getting to the point in your pregnancy that just 'bout anything will make your body ache."

_Great._

"How's everything else? Any cramping, contractions?"

Hesitantly Beth looked down at her belly. "Sometimes my belly will get all tight and it's not exactly painful, but it's definitely not comfortable. I never had that with Miriam. With Miriam I wasn't tired, my back never hurt. My feet never swelled."

Listening intently Carol frowned slightly. Reassuring her, "Well, you are a little older. Every pregnancy is different. And what you're feeling is probably just braxton hicks. They are kind of like practice contractions. If they become regular or painful then you need to call me right away. Mostly though, if they are happening a lot it's a sign you need to sit down, put your feet up and drink more water." Carol winked at Beth, knowing how she felt about taking it easy and drinking water.

Ugh with the water already. Beth felt like she drank enough to sink a boat. She had read about these practice contractions in the baby book Maggie had given her. She tried to read it thoroughly and really pay attention to what she was reading, but her eyes would become suddenly heavy and before she knew it, she would be snoozing.

"When's Daryl due back?" Carol asked while packing up her equipment.

"Tomorrow. Late." Beth couldn't help the smile. She missed him terribly. Everything just seemed better when he was there with her.

"Good. Next month he's not gonna' want to go far from ya'. He'll need to be sticking 'round the farm."

"Yep. I agree." As far as Beth was concerned, Daryl wasn't going anywhere for a very long time.

After Carol left, Beth had half a mind to stay right where she was on the couch. The warm setting sunshine coming through the picture window in the living room was warming her body just right. Snuggling in, she closed her eyes...but no. She had chores yet to do. She hadn't realized how reliant she had become on Daryl's help as well. Evening chores were becoming more difficult. The morning she had more energy. By evening, she was dragging. So, she would stay in and start dinner while Daryl went out and did chores. As she told herself she needed to get up, her eyes grew heavy and heavier until they were closed.

. . .

"Ya' sure, man? I mean you haven't gotten a deer yet." A smirk played across Rick's face, just a tiny little dig.

"Yeah, ya'll are probably bored just sitting 'round camp anyway."

"Uh huh. Sure. Ya'll suggesting we go home for _us_." Rick saw past Daryl's bullshit, and apparently he wasn't going to let Daryl get away with it without a little teasing.

"Shut it." Daryl grumbled half-heartedly.

"You okay with leaving early Carl?" Rick asked. "Someone misses their girlfriend."

Laughing hysterically, Carl agreed to leaving.

"Well don't just sit there, let's pack it up. And she's not my girlfriend. She's my…" fiance sounded too stuffy and traditional. "She's my soon to be wife."

. . .

Beth woke living room couch disoriented and in the dark. Rubbing her eyes, allowing them time to adjust, she wondered what woke her up. Was it just the uncomfortable position she managed to get into, or was it something else. A sound? Sitting up she strained her ears, listening for anything. For any sound that might be causing the silky thin hairs on her skin stand on end.

The air had become stiff, stuffy, hard to inhale and her lungs became heavy. Leaning backwards to raise to standing, in the way that very pregnant women do, she reached for the Glock she had set on the end table when Carol had needed to measure her stomach. A click sounded behind her, along with the pressure of the barrel of a gun on the back of her head.

"Don't move sweetheart. Not a inch."


	22. Chapter 22 - Safe

**Well, I think this is the end of this one. It always makes me sad to end a story. Ultimately I write for myself. It helps calm my mind (but drives me crazy at the same time-Ha!). The fact that it brings other people enjoyment (or not) makes it all the more worthwhile. Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting. I hope you like this last chapter. :)**

* * *

"Don't be stupid. Stand up. Slowly."

Doing what she was told, Beth slowly rose and turned to face Phillip Blake head on. This was the moment that had been shadowing her around the last few months. The moment she feared and also welcomed if she were being truly honest with herself. Now she no longer had to wait and watch and wonder on pins and needles if or when he was coming back.

But now what? She was alone, her gun wasn't within her possession yet again, and she was very pregnant, heightening the stakes exponentially.

"What brings you back here? You couldn't buy my land now even if I wanted to sell it to ya'." He was wanted by the law for a great number of offences according to Rick.

Get him talking and keep him talking until she could figure some way out of this, that was her one and only plan.

Phillip rolled his shoulders, moving a step to the right, he turned the lamp on with his free hand, keeping his gun trained on Beth. "Retaliation, of sorts I suppose."

Squinting at the sudden light, she said, "That's a little dirty for you, ain't it?"

As he stood next to the lamp, he looked unkept in difference to the neat and tidy appearance he used to have. No, she guessed, he hadn't had a great few months. His hair was longer and shaggy. Oily. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty. He also smelled of sweat and dirt. And fear.

"I gotta' say, you look a little rough."

"And you look like you gained some weight."

An involuntary shiver ran down her spine when he motioned the gun down to her belly. Protectively she wrapped her hands around her stomach. The baby was eerily calm, as though he knew the heaviness of the situation. Losing Miriam was the hardest thing she had ever gone though and she would fight tooth and nail to protect this baby.

"Did your country bumpkin go and knock you up?"

Beth didn't dignify that with an answer. Her eyes going nervously to her Glock still on the end table.

"Oh, no. I wouldn't do that if I were you." Phillip intoned in a creepy sing song voice. Grabbing her gun off the table and with a press of a button he ejected the cartridge letting it fall to the floor. Tossing the gun across the room, it came to a sliding stop in the opposite corner of the room.

"Ya' know, it's not too late. You can just leave now, we won't have to say another word 'bout it," Beth lied.

"Do you think I'm some sort of idiot?" Phillip yelled, stomping around the couch, grabbing by her ponytailed hair. Pulling her around to the side chair and shoving her down into it. "I thought I could just split. Go live in Mexico or where the hell ever. Live off the money I had hidden here and there. But no. You're little face wouldn't leave my mind. You're the reason that cop started sniffing around after me. You're the reason I lost my house, my cars, my business. This." He motioned to himself, to his messy appearance, "is all your fault." He screamed loudly, veins protruding from his neck and forehead.

"And so now I have to pay?" She asked sarcastically.

"Yes! You have to pay." He kneeled down in front of her. "But first. I'm going to have some fun."

That is when it set in just how serious this situation was. Her smart mouth and quick thinking weren't going to get her out of this one. Swallowing visibly, she asked "What do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean." Roughly he ran his hand over her cheek, peering into her face with his black eyes. Beth knew she believed in God. To believe in God you must believe in its antithesis, and that day she saw the devil in that man's eyes.

Between clenched teeth she spoke, "You best not touch me again, if you know what's good for you." The mere mention, the slightest idea of Phillip placing one finger on her, sent a fear intermixed with hatred coursing throughout her veins. No man was ever going to touch her again except for Daryl.

"Aw, aren't you tough?" Philip condescended.

"Damn right I am." And she was. Especially when she had to be. When her parents fought and her daddy drank too much. She learned to cope. When she found herself in an emotionally abusive relationship, she dealt with it. When everyone said she was crazy for moving out the farm by herself. She proved them wrong and made it work. When she lost her baby, she survived. When push came to shove, she shoved back harder. She was strong.

Leaning forward in the chair, and inch from Philip's odious face, she whispered, "You touch me again and I'll kill you."

Philips cracked and chapped lips parted into a hideous smile showing his yellowed teeth, "Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a promise." This time it was her turn to smile.

"Dumb bitch," was Philip's response, before pulling her up by her hair, bringing forth a reverberant screech of pain. Dragging her across the living room towards the stairs.

No, that was the last place she'd go with him. Digging in the heels of her feet, she created resistance with her body. Maybe gaining weight with the pregnancy wasn't such a bad thing afterall as it slowed them down. When her hair momentarily slipped from his grasp, she made a dash for the kitchen door. Unfortunately, he must of locked it after he snuck in because when she yanked at the door, it wouldn't budge. Seconds before he was on her again, through the glass in the door, she saw her Echo, laying motionless on the porch. This would explain why she heard no barking when he approached.

"Echo?" The word came out in a whisper. Phillip was on her spinning her around by her neck.

"What did you do to Echo?" She screamed, incredulous.

"Nothing. Not compared to what I'm going to do to you."

. . .

"She ain't answering." Daryl said more to himself than Rick or Carl. He tossed the cell phone down into the cup holder of Rick's truck.

They were loaded down and on their way home. Daryl had tried to call Beth twice as well as the text message he'd sent her at camp before they left. It was all too reminiscent of the last time they went hunting and she didn't answer her phone.

Since they found out she was pregnant and returned home from the hospital, she kept her phone on her. Especially if Daryl wasn't around. Now she wasn't answering. No call or text in reply. Nothing. Crickets.

"She could be in the shower. Or asleep. Or her phone could be dead. It don't haveta' mean anything." Rick reassured. Just to be on the safe side, though, he pressed a little harder on the gas peddle.

. . .

Beth's brave facade fell at the sight of Echo. Anger and pain, and about a million other things, serged and she plowed her body into Phillip, knocking him backward over a kitchen chair, falling onto his back. The impact of her body knocked the gun out of his hand sending it sailing over the wood floor into the living room.

Beth stumbled further into the kitchen, watching Phillip struggle for the breath that was knocked out of him. Grasping for the closest thing that would serve as a weapon when her line of sight landed on the knife set that sat in the corner since her mother lived there. She reached for the nine inch chef's knife.

Turning back around, Phillip was pulling himself to his feet. Not wanting him to get any footing towards his gun, she charged him again. Letting out a war cry of sorts, Beth sunk the knife into his left shoulder. Pulling it out she lost hold of it, the knife clanging to the kitchen floor.

Phillip let out an inhuman howl and grabbing her, he brought with him to the floor as he fell again. Beth landed atop his back, pulling at him, trying her damndest to keep him from that gun that lay a few feet from his outstretched hand.

But she wasn't strong enough.

He gained footing, swooped up the gun and aimed it at her kneeling before him, the gun pointed right between the eyes.

"It's too bad, it had to end this way," he spoke in between gasps of breath. Blood dripping down his already stained white button up shirt from the knife wound. "This coulda' ended so much easier."

_No, this can't be happening. This can't be it._

"Hey Sunshine!" A voice sounded from behind them and when Philip spun around, a tall, wiry figure stood backlit by the front porch light, his voice deep and raspy, "I don't think so. Drop it."

Confusion flashed over Phillip's face when he turned back to Beth and held up the gun to her once again. The world stopped and the air became thick again. Beth's heart lodged in her stomach. Unconsciously she squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to see whatever may come next.

The wind kicked up and the kitchen door crashed open.

Screaming her name Daryl dove towards Beth, covering her with his body. A shot rang through the air. Daryl watched as Phillip's head bounced forward and then ricocheted back, his body collapsing into a bleeding heap on the floor.

He was dead, there was no question in that. His fixed eyes stared soulless, if he ever had a soul to begin with, into the darkness that was his eternity.

"Beth? You okay?"

She lifted his head to the sound of his voice. He began searching her body with his hands and eyes. Running his hands over face, her arms, over her belly. Looking for any blood, any sign of the slightest injury.

"Daryl?" She asked, looking into his face, unseeing. Fear shook her body and she asked again "Daryl?"

"Yeah, it's me. I'm here. An' I ain't never leavin' you again."

"But...but who shot Phillip?"

As Rick came through the busted kitchen door, gun in hand a few seconds too late, the mystery figure that was silhouetted in the living room doorway sauntered over to where Phillip lay motionless. He whistled sharply, shaking his head slowly back and forth.

Daryl nodded to the man, "Merle."

The man nodded in return, "Baby brother."

. . .

Even though Daryl wasn't the one to kill Phillip himself, he was glad he was dead just the same. Now they, he, Beth and the baby, could go on with their lives. No more shadows hanging over their heads. The sleight wiped clean.

Later that night after everything had settled down; Rick had done his official police business, the corner had made his second trip out to the house and took Phillip's body away, the blood had been cleaned up, and the kitchen door fixed, no one would be the wiser to know a man was killed there that night.

Beth was a trooper. After the shock of the moment wore off, she stopped shaking and with her head held high reiterated her statement to Rick three times. When Daryl asked her yet again if she was okay she smiled tenderly at him, and then by way of answer said she was going to shower.

While Beth retreated to the bathroom, Daryl stood on the porch smoking what he promised himself to be his last cigarette, Merle mosied up the path leading from the house to the barn in his slow way.

"I don't much like cops, but your friend, Rick? He seems like a good one."

Daryl nodded. Merle had acted in defense. It was obvious if he hadn't shot Phillip, then Philip would of shot Beth. He saved her and everyone knew it. After Rick took Merle's statement, Rick shook Merle's hand, thanking him for what he did.

"Get set up in the office?" Daryl questioned, inhaling smoke deeply into his lungs. It was his last smoke and, damn it, he'd enjoy it.

"Yeah. Nicest digs I've had in awhile."

Daryl chucked. Almost the same words he'd spoken ten months before. Had it really only been ten months?

Watching Daryl closely, Merle asked, "What's so funny?"

"Nothin', just strange how time changes everything."

Strange how in ten short months he'd found what he had no idea was missing from his life. He found Beth and now he was going to be a dad. Strange how he was no longer angry at his brother. Not only was he not angry at him, he was actually happy to see him, and not just for his fortuitous timing.

Having no clue what Daryl was talking about, he nodded and said, "Yeah. I guess. Just saw you out smokin' thought I'd…" Merle paused.

After a moment of silence Daryl acknowledged, "It's good to see you, Merle ."

When Merle didn't respond, not that Daryl expected him to, he flicked his cigarette butt to the walkway below and turned, opening the screen door. Before he entered the house, Merle's words stopped him.

"It's good to see you too, brother."

. . .

"Am I gonna haveta' share the bed with Echo tonight too?" Daryl asked when he entered the bedroom to find Echo not only in bed with Beth but his head was laying on Daryl's pillow.

"She's had a rough day." Beth told him, petting Echo's side.

What seemed to upset Beth the most about this whole ordeal was that Echo was hurt. Phillip must of slipped her sleeping pills in some food because when the dust settled and they were able to tend to Echo, they realized she was only in a deep sleep. And while she could be roused awake, she was still groggy. Beth insisted Daryl carry Echo up to the bedroom while everyone came and went. He left her curled up sleeping on the bedroom rug. At some point she must of moved to the bed.

It was well past one in the morning before Daryl finally had Beth safe in his arms. He wouldn't allow himself to begin with the what-ifs. He would just take this moment for what it was. And revel in his love for Beth.

Still, he couldn't help but ask, "You sure you're fine?"

Beth pulled from his arms and sat up, leaning on the headboard. Daryl's head naturally went to rest on her rounded stomach; it made a nice pillow. She ran her fingers through his hair as his arms encircled her waist.

"Daryl, I promise. I'm fine." And other than her hair being sore from when Phillip pulled it, she didn't have a bruise or cut on her. With a promise to visit Carol in the morning, Daryl didn't insist she go see the doctor tonight.

"I feel better than I have in months. It was like Philip was a shadow. Always lurking. I was just waiting for him to pop out from behind any corner. Now I don't have that burden to carry. Phillip's gone. Jimmy is gone. Now I can really move on. Part of me was always stuck in the past, I guess. I didn't realize just how scared I was until I had nothing left to be scared of."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"Daryl, you can't be here all the time."

After a few moments of silence, Daryl lifted his head from her belly where the baby rolled and moved against his cheek and asked, "Does that mean you'll marry me now?" Giving her that crooked smile.

"Yes. As soon as possible."

Daryl rose to her, closing his hands over her cheeks he laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I love you Beth."

"I love you too, Daryl Dixon."

"So, do you mind tellin' me how the hell my brother ended up here?"

Laying back down on her side, Beth pillowed her head on Daryl's bicep, she curled her body into his side as he lay on his back.

"Oh. That?"

"Yes that." Daryl humored.

"I felt bad. You not having any contact with Merle. So, I started snoopin 'round a little."

Beth went on to tell him how an internet search led her to Merle's last known residence. Which eventually lead to his actual last known address, a craphole in the next town over. He no longer lived there, but the person still living there knew Merle's cell number. Which he gave to her without many questions asked. And she called Merle. Easy as that.

"He wasn't supposed to come out till the weekend, but I guess he decided to come early."

"And thankfully he did. If Merle hadn't showed up…"

"But he did show up. It all worked out." She didn't want to think about would could've happened. "Are ya' mad? That I called him. Told him to come out without askin' you first. I figured if I asked you first you'd say no."

Daryl took her hand in his, momentarily stilling it because the small circles she was drawing on his belly was distracting him. "Na' I ain't mad. I think enough time has past that Merle 'n me can put everything behind us. Move on from here."

In that moment, with her looking up at him with those big blue eyes, he had to touch her. He couldn't remember not wanting to. Grasping her chin with his thumb and forefinger, she smiled up at him. What she saw in his eyes had her heart pounding in her throat, had her lips parting, as he angled his head down to kiss her.

She didn't resist as he touched his mouth to hers. Shifting toward him, she moaned quietly, inviting him in. A gentle nip of his teeth had her lips heating and when his tongue entered her mouth, a low sound of pleasure came up from his throat. His arms rounded her shoulders and his hands tensed on her back. Without hesitation, she pressed her body into his.

"Wait!" She suddenly blurted.

"What? What's wrong now?"

Stifling a laugh behind her her hand, she said "No. Nothing. But there is one more thing."

Still uneasy, nerves still on edge, his voice slightly panicked, he asked, "What?"

"What do you think of the name Waylon?"

"For what?"

Beth shoved playfully at his shoulder, "For the baby."

"Ohh. Waylon?"

"Uh huh."

"Waylon." He repeated again. "I like it. Could call 'im Way."

Just like in her dream...

* * *

Beth and Daryl were married the following month, on a crisp afternoon in a small mountainside chapel. It was a small wedding, but perfect for them. Playing it off as though she didn't care where or how they got married, just as long as they did, Daryl finally wore her down and she admitted to wanting to be married in a church with a real pastor. Daryl was happy to oblige. Maggie stood for Beth and Merle stood for Daryl. Rick, Lori and Carl, as well as Glenn and Carol filled into the three rows of pews.

"And do you Daryl William Dixon, take Bethany Ann Greene to be your lawfully wedded wife?" The pastor asked Daryl.

"You bet," was his answer and everyone chuckled. Beth didn't hear them, though. As far as she was concerned she and Daryl were the only ones in the church. Only having eyes for Daryl. She felt emotional and huge, with only four more weeks to go before their baby came into the world, but if you asked Daryl she was the most amazing woman he'd ever set eyes on.

And now she was his wife. His stubborn, independent, tough, beautiful, kind-hearted, wife.

"By the power vested in me, you may kiss your bride." Beth let out a whoop of excitement when he swooped her up into his arms and planted a noisy kiss on her lips, then carried her down the aisle in his arms.

. . .

They returned to the farm for the reception, which was just as informal as you could get. Beth kicked off her flat ballerina shoes that Maggie had forced on her for the wedding as soon as they got through the door and Daryl immediately untucked his button up shirt. Everyone pitched in to get the meal, which had already been prepared, on the table and everyone sat in the formal dining room, that hadn't been used in years, and ate till they had their fill. The room was full of laughter, stories and heartwarming friendship and family.

Merle, though quiet, spoke pleasantly enough when spoken to. He had apparently mellowed quite a bit since Daryl had last seen him. He had become quiet, almost subdued. He no longer did drugs, as far as Daryl could tell, and only had a beer or two after work or with dinner. With Daryl's push, he decided to stay to help out on the farm once the baby comes.

Now that everything was out in the open, Daryl and Rick could speak openly about growing up and serving in the army together. And they seemed to have an endless supply of stories from that time period. Each one more outrageous than the one before it.

Rick was in the middle of a story about he and Daryl being young and drunk on one occasion in particular, when Beth took a moment to look around the table. Glenn and Maggie. Rick, Lori and Carl. Carol. Merle. Echo underneath the table, hoping for a dropped piece of food. _This._ This was her family. Those who meant the most to her. And then there was Daryl sitting by her side. The man that came to her with nothing and no one showed her she did not have to be alone in this world. He showed her she could be the independent and strong woman she had learned to be and still allow others to be in her life, that it wasn't a weakness.

And with him in her life, she would never be alone again.


	23. Chapter 23 - Epilogue

**Total Bethyl fluff here to make up for all the angsty cliffhangers. Thank you all again for reading and commenting.**

* * *

"Waylon Hershel Dixon! I said no!" Dropping the load of clean towels onto the couch, Beth made a beeline for the one year old who was two inches away from dumping the bag of dog food and spilling it all over the floor. For the second time that day. At the risk of the stray dogs that come and go on the farm getting into the bag of dog food, she hefted it on her hip and took it out onto the back porch sitting it on top of the chest freezer they kept there. Pushing her hair out of her face, she went back inside and faced her little man.

Squatting down to be on his level, she spoke quietly but sternly. "Mama said no. That mean's no."

Waylon was as smart as a whip with a naughty streak a mile long. He knew what the word _no_ meant. Like all one year olds, though, he didn't care. His face went from a pout to a smirk that was so much like his fathers that it took Beth's breath away. And when he threw his tiny chubby arms around her neck, her heart melted again, for the fiftieth time that morning.

"Mama."

Straightening with him clinging around her neck and her arms tucked under his butt, she made an oof sound and said, "Way. You get much bigger and you'll have to carry me."

Switching Waylon over to hip, she grabbed his blankie off the couch as she walked past it on her way to the stairs. Even though it had been well over a year since the nursery had been finished, Beth's heart still skidded a tiny bit every time she entered the room. The grey-green walls, the cherry wood crib. Even the old dresser painted a dull yellow made her happy. And to finish it off, a wooden rocking chair that was gifted to them from the Grimes family, sat in the corner. Lowering herself down, it creaked just a tiny bit, and after a second or two of shuffling around, they were settled in their usual position.

Beth loved rocking Waylon to sleep, and though almost every child-rearing book said not to, she would continue to rock him to sleep for as long as she was able. With a heavy heart she knew those days were numbered, but today. Today she would enjoy this. These moments were so fleeting. It was like she blinked and all the sudden they were celebrating Waylon's first birthday. She would commit this time to memory. The weight of his head on her arm, the soft fuzziness of his dark, almost black hair tickling her skin. The way his lightning blue eyes would watch her own until they went out of focus before closing. Then she would quietly lift him up and into his crib.

Today she hesitated a moment or two after he fell asleep, just watching this wonder that was her's and Daryl's. The last two years had been a whirlwind. The first half being an absolute insanity she hoped to never have to relive again, and then the second half was a whirlwind in its own way. Having Waylon at home, in her own bed with Daryl and Carol attending. Maggie chomping at that bit at her own home waiting on news that her nephew had arrived. The Grimes' waiting for news at their home too. Lori almost through with her own pregnancy with a baby girl they planned on naming Judith. Merle made himself scarce, taking off in the beat up truck Daryl bought second hand, afraid he might see something that would scar him for life. Everyone understood that Beth only wanted Daryl there.

Beth seeked solitude those first few hours of labor when the contractions weren't yet very painful and were sporadic at best. Taking a walk to the family cemetery to visit her parents and Miriam. Talking to them about the impending birth of her son. About how excited and terrified at the same time she was. Waiting there in the early spring sun enjoying the silence.

Then as labor picked up, she wandered back to the house, stopping at the barn saying a hello to all their animals, including two new additions of a pig and an emu. Both needing rehoming and Beth unable to say no. Finally making it back to the house where Daryl was impatiently waiting at the kitchen table.

"I 'bout came after you," he scolded.

"I'm fine, Daryl," she reassured, a contraction hitting at that moment, forcing her to stop and lean against the back of a kitchen chair.

Daryl was at her side in a split second. "What? What is it?" He asked almost frantic.

Breathing in through her mouth, out through her nose until the worst was over, she looked up at Daryl and couldn't help but laugh in sympathy at the worry written all over his face. "I'm in labor. 'Case you haven't noticed." She reached up and patted a hand on his scruffy cheek. "You've got to try 'n calm down. This might go on for a while and if you flip out every time I have a contraction, well, you just might have a heart attack."

"I know, baby. I jus' don't like seein' you in pain." He took her by the hips, pulling her as close as he could. With her belly being as big as it was, that was a little difficult. Still, he leaned down putting his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, thoroughly, holding nothing back. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her warm softness against him and kissed him back.

Sighing deeply, she wondered how he could still stir up feelings from her lips down to her toes even at nine months and three days pregnant.

"It's a normal part of all this. And, hunny, it's gonna' get worse before it gets better."

"Shit. I think I need to sit down." Daryl only half joked.

As things progressed, the more focused Beth became. Daryl gave her space if she needed it and came right back to her side when she wanted him. When the contractions got to the point she could no longer speak during them, he sent Carol, who was on standby, a text that it was nearing time. _He_ didn't want to deliver the baby.

Carol made it out in record time. After checking the baby's heartbeat and Beth's blood pressure as well as her dilation, Carol declared she was eight centimeters and suggested they move to the bedroom. Two intense hours later, with Daryl at her side, Beth gave birth to a healthy seven pound eight ounce boy.

Daryl, a man of few words to begin with, was rendered speechless as he held his baby boy wrapped in a fuzzy blanket close to his chest. After making sure both Beth and the baby were healthy, Carol stepped out giving the new mom and dad time alone with their son.

Beth laid her head against the pillow, eyes misty and tired. Holding the baby with one arm and placing his hand on Beth's with the other, he said in hushed admiration, "I can't believe you did that."

"What? Oh, push a human being out of my body? It ain't nothin'." She sounded exhausted, but happy.

"I ain't never seen nothin' like it." He looked from the baby, then back to Beth. "You're beautiful." Leaning down he placed a kiss gently on her lips. "I love you."

She knew she must of looked a bit like a wild jungle woman, but Daryl's words pulled at her already emotional heart strings and tears sprang to her eyes, rushing down her cheeks. Quickly wiping them away with her hand, holding the tears back, she sniffled, "We still need a middle name for this guy." She reached up and took the baby from Daryl, and he put his arm around Beth and the baby. A family.

No one would argue the baby was, without a doubt, Daryl's. Biologically as well as emotionally. He was part Beth's too, so he suggested, "How 'bout Hershel. Waylon Hershel Dixon."

At that point, Beth no longer tried to hold back the tears as they gushed from her eyes. She could only nod for an answer, too overcome with emotion to form words.

. . .

Beth stood a moment longer at the crib brushing Waylon's hair back off his forehead. The door creaking brought her back from the memory of the day he was born to the present. Echo pushed herself through the half open door, her nail's click clacking on the wood, making her way over to Beth and briefly leaning on her leg for a quick pet before circling on the rug and laying down, settling down for her own nap.

Daryl followed Echo into the room, going to the crib, wrapping his arms around Beth from behind. Nuzzling her neck, Daryl asked "How ya'll feelin'?"

It's moments like this Beth lived for. The quiet stillness of Daryl's love for her. And for Waylon. It wasn't that she didn't live for the everyday, because she did. But, when you're knee-deep in the thick of life it becomes easy to not see the good. Like when Waylon spills his lunch all over the kitchen floor, or when Daryl tracks mud in on his boots, or when the laundry is hip high, when one of the animals takes sick. Sometimes Beth wanted to scream. And, sometimes she did scream at Daryl and he gave it right back to her. They always made up quickly, though, neither being able to sleep angry. The days could be long, but this year had flown by. And she loved her life. Every messy, grumpy, tiring, loving, hugging, kissing moment of it.

"We're good today," Beth answered Daryl's question.

"I think this one's a girl," Daryl whispered into her ear. Beth ran her hands from the crib banister, to where Daryl's rested on her lower belly. Reviling in the moment.

Turning into his arms, smiling brilliantly, she asked, "Oh yeah?

"Uh huh. And she's gonna' be jus' like you."


	24. Deleted Scene - Won't Back Down

**DELETED SCENE - I just couldn't make it work in the story, but thought it was funny and wanted to share it.**

* * *

 

Towards the end of dinner, after one of those outrageous stories about their time in Afghanistan, Lori spoke up. "Ya' know Daryl, I couldn't help but noticed the Pastor called you Daryl _William_ Dixon."

"Yes, he did."

"Uh huh. Interesting. And Carl. What's your middle name?"

"William." Carl gladly filled in.

Smiling slyly, her attention went to her husband. "Well, ain't that interesting Rick. As I recall you chose Carl's middle name."

The room erupted in laughter at the pointed look Lori gave Rick. All this time and she had no idea Rick had named Carl after Daryl. 


End file.
